


Inferno

by Racey



Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-01-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:08:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 31,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22279915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Racey/pseuds/Racey
Summary: Ichigo couldn't stand him, but he was undeniably the most beautiful creature out of the whole firefighting bunch.
Relationships: Grimmjow Jaegerjaques/Kurosaki Ichigo
Comments: 1
Kudos: 32





	1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach...

Onwards...

XOXOXO

_He had been a bully._

_An asshole._

_An evil motherfucker._

_But he was GORGEOUS._

Ichigo screwed up his face as he marched past the Karakura Fire Department. There were several men lounging around the facility and all of them were handsome, some downright hot, but there was one that stood out to Ichigo like a sore thumb. _He wouldn't go there, though_.

Two large, bright red fire engines were parked in the open garage of the medium-sized, brick building, the firefighters on duty in their casual uniforms of dark-blue t-shirts and dark-blue, warm-up pants, sporting the Fire Department's logo. Some wore sneakers, while others wore the standard issue fire boots. Ichigo thought that was absurd, considering the weather was sweltering and could probably make the devil himself sweat and curse. _Then again, it did reduce the amount of time spent throwing the huge footwear on in the case of an emergency_.

Three of the firefighters were seated on the front of one of the fire engines, looking like they stepped straight from a women's magazine. One was around his height, with pale skin, ash-white, short, spiky hair and strange inverted eyes, the irises a bright gold, while the sclera was pitch-black. He had a wide, mischievous grin and a really loud, boisterous voice. His body was muscular, but more lean and wiry. He was wearing the dark-blue uniform t-shirt and warm-up pants, but he wore a pair of black sneakers with it.

The second man was tall and had long, bright red hair that he usually wore in a ponytail, but today he wore down over his broad shoulders. He had dark, tribal tattoos for eyebrows and they seemed to travel down the sides of his neck and underneath his dark-blue shirt. He had expressive, russett-colored eyes and a wide, friendly grin. He was more muscular than the albino and he wore it well. He also had a really deep voice and a wonderful laugh. Whenever Ichigo heard it, it always made him smile. He too wore the dark-blue t-shirt with the dark-blue warm-up pants, but he accompanied his with the humongous black and yellow fire boots.

 _The last man made his blood boil like a pot of soup_. Ichigo couldn't stand him, but he was undeniably the most beautiful creature out of the whole firefighting bunch. _Well, in his opinion anyway. This man was hot enough to set fire to wet grass_. He was tall, even taller than the red head. He had bright, electric blue hair that he wore in a mouth-wateringly sexy style, akin to controlled chaos. A few strands rebelled and covered his brow and his sideburns were long and unruly, but the overall effect was devastating. His body reminded Ichigo of a Greek statue, his broad, well-defined chest glistening under the bright rays of the afternoon sun. His arms were legendary, roped with taut, sinewy muscle and his abdomen was the picture of perfection, rippling and dipping in all the right places. His arms and upper torso were covered with tattoos, but it didn't stop there. The lower right side of his back held a large, gothic-stylized six and on the left side of his neck, the word SEXTA was inked in an outstanding black. His eyes were a bright ocean-blue, like what one thinks of when imagining waters of the Caribbean. They were dazzling and mesmerizing and wholly infuriating.

What was worse, the man knew he was sinfully fine. If he didn't, why was he sitting there wearing nothing but his large, black firefighting pants with the suspenders up over his broad shoulders...and that was it. Oh yeah, the boots, but they certainly didn't count when one had all that eye candy going on above and slightly below the waist. The pants hung low and showed the beginning of the "v" of his pelvis, making Ichigo have to strangle the urge to fan himself as he walked past. It was hard enough staring without getting caught, while also avoiding street signs and cracks in the pavement.

Ichigo thought he was safe since he was across the street from the facility and was actually trying to be obscure by wearing colors that blended well with his surroundings. He knew it sounded strange, but he hated the blue-haired man for a reason; he wasn't just making that up to compensate for his lack of mental control. He was wearing a light-gray, New Era fitted cap over his bright orange locks, a form-fitting, gray wife beater, stone-washed blue, denim shorts and a pair of light-gray and blue Nike Jordans. He was hustling past the Fire Department Headquarters because even though he enjoyed looking at the man candy being presented, he hated being seen by the tall, blue-haired bastard that had been the bane of existence since middle school.

Sure, he could take a different route home from work, but that would cost him an extra fifteen minutes and in this heat, that was a fifteen minutes he just couldn't afford. Japan was in the middle of one of its worst heat waves in ten years and you could feel it. Sometimes, Ichigo would swear his bones were sweating and crying out for release.

"YO! BERRY-CHAN! WHERE YA GOIN' WITHOUT SAYIN' HI?" a loud, deep voice called out, making him cringe and grind his teeth together.

Ichigo shoved his hands into his shorts pockets, hell bent on ignoring the blue-haired idiot as he continued up the street. There was the sound of loud footsteps clomping against the ground and Ichigo knew there was no getting around the upcoming confrontation.

"What the hell do you want from my life, Grimmjow?" he asked, turning an exasperated glare to the taller man that had finally caught up with him.

Grimmjow Jaegerjaques gave him a wide, devilish grin that made Ichigo's toes curl, "Oh? When'd ya grow a pair a'nuts?" he asked, his deep, gruff voice seemingly shaking the concrete.

Ichigo had to forcefully steer his gaze from Grimmjow's flexing pectorals and abdomen, inwardly scolding himself as he did so, "Get lost, loser," he grumbled and turned his back on the larger man, who was emitting powerful waves of testosterone and dominance.

His point was proven when Grimmjow's stunning blue eyes narrowed and darkened before Ichigo was suddenly shoved against a stone wall running the length of the block and fencing in the neighborhood park, "I know ya don' like me an' frankly, I don' give a shit. Never have an' I'm pretty sure I never will. Don' mean ya c'n talk ta me anyway ya wanna," he growled, his aura menacing and frightening.

Ichigo blinked up at him, the mood lost when he caught a whiff of Irish Spring soap. _Hard to be afraid of someone that smelled that good_. "What the fuck d'you want? We go through this all the time and you never give me a reason for why you keep bugging me," he stated, annoyed.

Grimmjow arched a brow and stepped back, releasing his hold on the front of Ichigo's shirt, a wolfish grin creasing the bottom half of his face, "I dunno. I guess I just like fuckin' witcha, since yer a lotta fun to rile up."

Grimmjow's rumbling baritone was doing wicked things to Ichigo's insides and being this close to the man was terrible for his composure. "Why don't we try something new next time?" he suggested, a friendly smile throwing the blue-haired man off.

A slight frown appeared between Grimmjow's perfect blue brows as he asked, "What's that?"

Ichigo dropped the grin and yelled at the top of his lungs, "LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!"

With that, he whirled on his heel and continued down the street, Grimmjow's laughter echoing behind him, "No deal, Berry-chan," the man called out and Ichigo glanced over his shoulder to see Grimmjow watching him walk away, his eyes holding a hungry leer.

Ichigo scowled and turned away, his heart hammering in his chest. _What the hell had been with that look?_ He shook his head as if to clear it of its distracting thoughts and made his way to his apartment, body already yearning for his air conditioner.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach or the NOH8 campaign...

Onwards...

XOXOXO

_The air was acrid and filled with thick, suffocating plumes of black smoke. The heat pressed against his turnout gear, but it did nothing to stifle the chills wracking his body. He couldn't see through the dense smoke and Shiro had the thermal imaging camera all the way on the other side of the collapsing building._

_He stepped over the fallen debris of what used to be the ceiling and sifted through the mess, his SCBA (Self-Contained Breathing Apparatus) fogged from the intense heat of the flames surrounding him. The icy sensation crawling around in his gut and coating his skin, just kept escalating the longer he went without being able to find the man he was looking for. The Chief had warned them not to come back into the building since it was dangerously close to not only collapsing, but the gas hadn't been turned off in time and was on the verge of causing a major explosion._

_The man hadn't listened, claiming to have heard the voice of a child over the roaring din of the fire. He'd followed behind him, knowing they would be reprimanded, probably even suspended, but it didn't matter. His best friend wanted to save someone and he wouldn't let him do it alone._

_Somewhere along the trek back inside, they had gotten separated and now, he was searching for him._

" _GIN!" he called into the crackling background._

_There was no answer._

_The floor groaned and creaked, ready to cave, yet he kept moving deeper into the raging inferno. Just as he was about to step over the threshold of another room that was blanketed in thick smoke with blazing flames licking up the walls, his arm was gripped and he was pulled forcefully away from his route._

_He turned on the offender, eyes wild as he tried to contain his panic, "What the fuck are ya doing? Gin's still in there!" he shouted._

_Russet orbs pierced his soul as Renji practically dragged him through the crumbling hall and towards the exit, not even bothering to respond. He yanked his arm, trying to free himself from the red head's iron grip, to no avail. He was already weakened from carrying multiple victims from the burning building, making it easy for Renji to manipulate him the way he wanted._

_He still struggled._

_He couldn't just turn his back on his best friend._

_Yet, no matter how hard he tried to resist, Renji overpowered him and pulled him through the exit. They stumbled over to one of the ambulances, his gear and helmet seeming to weigh a million tons. Just as he made it to one of the vehicles, a deafening explosion rocked the street and vibrated the concrete. He whirled, mouth wide open and heart freezing in his chest. He watched in horror as the building was enveloped in an enormous cloud of smoke, debris and rubble flying in all directions before it finally collapsed almost in slow motion. He snatched his helmet and SCBA off, dropped it to the ground and started towards the demolished building._

" _GIIIIN!" he screamed, his throat raw and voice hoarse. "GIIIIIIIIIIN!"_

_Renji grabbed him around the waist and held him in place, refusing to budge when he thrashed against him desperately. He dropped to his knees, his teeth clenched and bared, his chest tight and lungs empty._

" _GIIIIIIIN!" he screamed again, throwing his head back as he glared at the sky._

Grimmjow jerked to a sitting position, his body covered in a cold sweat and shaking uncontrollably. His heart galloped behind his ribs, his breathing erratic. His eyes darted around the dark of his bedroom as his mind slowly caught up to them; _he hadn't really registered where he was at first_. Taking a deep breath, he ran a large, tanned hand over his face and tossed away his midnight-blue sheets that had tangled around his long legs. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and took another moment to gather himself.

He glanced at the digital clock on his nightstand, the glowing red numbers telling him it was two-thirty in the morning. He sighed and climbed to his feet, stretching, then making his way out of his bedroom and to the kitchen for a glass of water.

His heart was slowly coming down from its uphill run as he trudged through the hall of his apartment. He hadn't had that nightmare in over a year, since the death of his best friend. He grimaced as he crossed the threshold of the kitchen and flipped the light switch. _One whole year and the pain was still raw as a fresh wound, stinging just as sharply as a paper cut_.

Grimmjow shuffled over to the refrigerator and withdrew a pitcher of filtered water. He poured himself a glass and leaned against the black, granite-top island as he downed it. He rolled the still cold glass across his forehead in an effort to cool himself, as well as calm his nerves.

 _He still couldn't deal with the guilt and regret that strangled him whenever he thought of his best friend's untimely death_.

He and Gin Ichimaru had been best friends since elementary school. They had been inseparable, even though Grimmjow was into men and Gin was very much straight. They had grown up together, terrorizing the neighborhood children, being the kings of high school and University, then eventually becoming firefighters. Grimmjow had been the best man at Gin's wedding, had been there for the birth of his only kid and was even that only kid's godfather.

 _They had been closer than brothers_.

Now, Gin was gone and Grimmjow was left to watch over the man's family and deal with the debilitating pain of his death.

Grimmjow set the glass on the counter and sighed. _It was late and even though he had the day off, he should still try and get some more rest_.

XOXOXO

Ichigo flopped over the edge of the small, white boat, his legs still dangling over the side as he removed his mask and snorkel. He was beyond tired and all he and his partner had managed to find was a tiny collection of blown glass jars of some sort, a couple beer and soda bottles and a few bottle caps. Ulquiorra had even found a license plate.

Ichigo sat up and perched himself on the edge of the motorized sea-craft, waiting for said partner to break the surface. Not even a minute later, the raven-haired male did just that, bobbing like a bouy as he slowly floated towards the boat. Ichigo leaned over and held his hand out to assist the petite man over the side. Once Ulquiorra was safely aboard, Ichigo plopped down onto the seat near the steering controls and sighed. _Luckily, they weren't paid based on what they found on their salvaging dives, but rather had salaries because this last trip had been worse than a bust_.

Ulquiorra tugged off his mask and snorkel, shook out his wet shag of inky, shoulder-length hair and took a seat beside Ichigo, his deep purple and black wetsuit making him appear waifish. He reached down, yanking off his black swim fins before finally leaning back against the side of the boat and glancing over at Ichigo.

"This was a pointless dive," he monotoned.

Ichigo grinned, the grin slowly morphing into a soft snicker, "Yeah, you're right. Maybe Ilforte will give us a break tomorrow," he suggested, knowing full-well that their boss – although really cool and down to Earth – wasn't about to give his two best divers the day off. Ulquiorra knew it, too.

"You know that won't happen," he stated dryly.

Ichigo grimaced and picked something from the sleeve of his arctic blue and black wetsuit. "It was worth a try," he muttered absently, warranting a quick glance from his partner and best friend.

They placed their unimpressive finds in a white, styrofoam cooler, then Ulquiorra took the controls and motored them back to the pier. En route, Ichigo stretched out on the hard seat and stared up at the pale blue sky. It was another stifling day and he hated to change clothes and leave the water. The sun kissed the water's surface and made it shimmer like molten silver, cotton ball clouds slowly drifted by and the slight breeze wafting over the bay ruffled his damp hair and kept him cool.

Ichigo knew that as soon as they disembarked and left the immediate area of the harbor, the breeze would cease to exist and the heat would swoop in like a hawk. He sighed and continued to watch the sky, the color reminding him of a certain gorgeous asshole. Cringing, he tried to steer his thoughts elsewhere, but the look he had witnessed on Grimmjow's face the other day was too much for him to ignore.

 _What had been with that look, anyway?_ If he wasn't mistaken, it had appeared as if Grimmjow... _wanted_ him. Or was at least thinking a few dirty thoughts at the time. Ichigo couldn't be sure.

He really didn't think Grimmjow wanted him in that way, though. The man had been worse than a steel sword in his side since middle school, where the blue-haired ape had bullied him, pushed him around and generally just made his entire school life a misery. Ichigo snorted. _He had been more than glad to get away from Grimmjow and his evil minions during their University years_.

Ichigo had gone a different route, going to a school for diving and salvaging, rather than going to med school like his old man had wanted him to. He knew he wasn't cut out for being a doctor and even though it disappointed his father, it was his decision, his life and he would do as he damned well pleased. _Besides, he was a fish living in a human disguise_. _He loved swimming and being in the water, so why not make it a career?_

Suddenly, the boat shuddered to a stop and Ichigo sat up, glancing around. _He hadn't even realized they were so close to the pier_. Ulquiorra cut the engine and turned towards his hunter green duffel bag in the corner of the small craft. He withdrew a pair of purple and black, rubber-bottomed swimming shoes and slid his dainty feet into them. Once he was done, he swung the bag over his shoulder and gave Ichigo an impatient glare.

Ichigo hadn't noticed he'd been zoning out. He hurriedly removed his fins and stuffed his feet into a pair of arctic blue and black swimming shoes, grabbed his bag and swung it over his shoulder. Together, he and Ulquiorra hefted the white cooler containing their finds over the side of the boat and onto the pier owned by Ilforte Grantz.

Ilforte ran and owned a small salvaging company in the Karakura Harbor. Ichigo was surprised it had as much business as it did, but then again, he wasn't going to complain, either. It was close to home and it provided him with a good salary. Plus, he was able to participate in other training programs, even going as far as being a scuba instructor in Okinawa for one week in August, every year. His job held a lot of perks and he was never bored, even on days like this, where the salvaging run had been a dead one. The tiny boat they'd rummaged through on the bottom of the river hadn't contained much and certainly nothing of any value.

He and Ulquiorra lugged the cooler to headquarters, grateful to see the dock-hand, Starrk Coyote, heading in their direction. The tall brunet had smoky gray eyes and a lazy saunter that gave Ichigo the chills. _There was no denying that Starrk was good-looking, but he was also in a relationship_.

 _Insert sigh_.

Starrk was wearing a pair of dark-green trunks, black flip-flops and his chest was bare. He must have slathered on a layer of suntan oil or something because his torso glistened like a glazed doughnut under the sun's rays. A conch-shell necklace wrapped around his strong neck like a choker and his wavy, brown hair swayed with each step he took.

Ichigo felt like he had to roll his tongue back into his head like a carpet.

 _Starrk was amazing_... _and straight_.

"Yo," the taller man greeted, voice deep and sexy as he stepped forward to retrieve the cooler in their hands.

Ichigo grinned and flexed his wrists, "Hey, Starrk. How's the family?"

The brunet gave a tiny smirk as he fell into step beside Ichigo and Ulquiorra. "They're good. Lily turns eight tomorrow and Rangiku wants to take her to the circus," he responded.

Ichigo chuckled, knowing Starrk's energetic daughter would love the circus. "Good idea."

"Oh! Ulquiorra, Rangiku wants you to meet her sister. Maybe the two of you can come by for dinner one day this week," Starrk stated, turning those lovely eyes in Ulquiorra's direction. Ichigo glanced at his best friend, wondering what he would say.

Amazingly, Ulquiorra averted his gaze and nodded. "That would be fine."

Ichigo frowned, confused and speechless. _Ulquiorra wasn't a virgin, but he wasn't necessarily a ladies man, either_. The last Ichigo remembered, the smaller, onyx-haired man had dated only a few times, had sex less times than that and really didn't seem interested in dating at all. _So, why now was he accepting virtually a blind date?_

They entered the modest, wooden building that was headquarters and Ichigo brightened at the sight of the secretary. She had been absent for a week, due to a summer cold and her replacement had been less than enjoyable. The sixteen-year old girl jumped up from her spot behind a gray desk, a raised partition separating her from customers and visitors, and flew towards him. Ichigo smiled and held his arms open, wrapping the smaller girl up into a huge hug, even spinning her around as she giggled and clung to him like a wet leaf.

"Ichigo!" she squealed, her arms tight around his neck. He was very close to being strangled, but he had missed the girl, so he allowed her to nearly kill him with her enthusiasm. "I missed you so much!" she continued.

Ichigo petted her short bob of bubblegum pink hair and gently pried her arms from his neck. _On second thought, he needed to breathe_. "I missed you, too, Yachi-chan. I'm glad you're feeling better."

Yachiru cheesed up at him as she stepped back, "Yeah, I know. Dad was driving me crazy in the house all week."

He outright laughed. Yachiru's dad happened to be his boss's younger brother. He was a tall, slender, pink-haired man named Szayel Aporro Grantz, paramedic extraordinaire. _He also worked with the wonderful Karakura Fire Department_.

"I could say the same for you, Yachiru," a cool tenor voiced from behind them, making Yachiru cringe in embarrassment.

"Sorry, Daddy," she cooed, sidling over to the man and giving him her best puppy-dog eyes. Ichigo would have fallen subject to that look like he always did, but obviously, Szayel had more experience with it and was somewhat immune. He was wearing the white uniform of the EMS team, his hair hanging over his brow and covering half of his face.

Szayel ran a hand through his daughter's pink hair and shook his head exasperatedly, mustard-hued eyes softening exceptionally, "Don't give me that face. I'll be back to pick you up when your uncle lets you go."

"Which won't be for a while. Yachiru has a lot of work to catch up on," another, deeper voice added to the mix.

All eyes turned to the speaker, Ilforte Grantz, owner of Grantz Salvaging. He stood tall, wearing a white, short-sleeved polo, khaki pants and white thong sandals, his mile-long, blond hair cascading like a waterfall over his shoulders and down his back. Deep, brown eyes gazed at his niece with vast amounts of affection. Ilforte was classic pretty boy, with a smoking hot body that he usually kept under wraps and that long, flowing, blond hair. His skin was tanned a lovely bronze and his voice was like melted butter.

He was also Ichigo's boss and completely off-limits.

"Ok, Uncle Ilforte," Yachiru chirped and headed back to her desk.

"Ichigo, I need to speak with you in my office," Ilforte addressed him, that deep voice making his gut churn with butterflies.

"Oh, yeah, ok," he uttered clumsily, wondering what he'd done to warrant a trip to the principal's office.

"Szayel, I'll call you later to discuss... _that_ ," Ilforte continued before turning and heading into his office, not waiting for a reply from his brother, or to see if Ichigo was following him.

Ichigo shot a wary glance in Ulquiorra's direction, disturbed to see the other man blinking back at him blankly. _What the hell could Ilforte want that made a trip to his office necessary?_ The taller blond was rather intimidating when he was serious and Ichigo hoped he hadn't done anything to get on the man's short list.

He forced his feet to move, one in front of the other until he reached Ilforte's office. It was designed to be relaxing, with a mauve-colored carpet, cream-colored walls and a mahogany desk. There was a gray filing cabinet off to the right and a floor-to-ceiling window behind the desk that looked out on the harbor. Ichigo stepped inside and nervously shifted in place.

Ilforte was seated behind his desk in a large, black, leather rolling chair, his arms folded across his broad chest. Ichigo gulped when his boss looked up and pinned him to the wall with his stare, deep brown eyes sharp as a needle.

"Close the door, Ichigo," Ilforte ordered with his deep voice.

Ichigo nodded, trying not to tremble. He was suffering from equal amounts of fear and arousal. His boss was sexy as hell, but Ichigo was afraid he'd unconsciously done something that would cost him his job. He closed the door softly and turned back to his employer, who was still watching him carefully.

"Take a seat," the blond suggested. Again, Ichigo nodded and complied. He wasn't normally always so complacent, but his job was on the line. Ilforte reclined in his chair and studied him with a slow, practiced gaze that made Ichigo squirm uncomfortably. Finally, the older man spoke, "Do you know an Ayasegawa Yumichika?"

Ichigo let out a startled breath, confused as to why his acquaintance with an old classmate was being brought up at his job. Frowning, he nodded, "Y-yeah. Why?"

Ilforte nodded in return and reached for a manila envelope that had been resting innocently on his desk. He opened it and withdrew a few glossy photos, then spread them across the desktop. "Do you recognize these photos?" he asked, brown eyes curious and completely riveted to Ichigo's face.

Ichigo took a look at the photos and upon recognizing them, felt the blood drain from his body in hurry. He peeked at his employer, wondering what this meant for his career. _Was Ilforte disgusted with him? Was he about to be fired and thus the reason for the meeting behind a closed office door?_

 _He hoped not_.

He swallowed and tried to form some type of moisture in his mouth and throat before he spoke, "Yes, I recognize it."

Ilforte didn't betray his emotions, just gave Ichigo a weighty stare. "Ichigo, you're gay?"

Ichigo cringed, faced with the blatant question. _Should he lie? Should he tell the truth?_ He considered his employer and scrunched his nose in displeasure. _He shouldn't have to choose between the career he adored and his sexual preference_. Stepping off the cliff, he nodded and gave a stilted, "Yeah, I am."

Ilforte was silent for all of ten seconds before a devastating grin lit up his face. Ichigo almost jumped in shock. _That had been unexpected_. Ilforte gathered the photos and tucked them back into the manila envelope, his eyes never leaving Ichigo's. "Ah, I see. When did you pose for those pictures?" he asked, sliding the envelope into his desk drawer.

Ichigo was stunned. His eyebrows leaped off his forehead as he regarded the older man seated before him. _All this time, he'd been afraid he would lose his job_. "I-I, about four months ago," he answered, still unable to settle down from his earlier apprehension.

Ilforte nodded, "Yumichika is a friend of yours, I assume?"

It was his turn to nod. "Yeah, since high school. Er, sir, I don't mean to sound rude or abrupt, but what does this have to do with anything? Am I going to be fired?" he asked.

 _He could never be too sure_.

Ilforte scowled suddenly and waved a hand dismissively. "No, no! Yumichika stopped by while you and Ulquiorra were out. He wants to know if you'll pose for him again. He left a new number where you can reach him and he wants your answer as soon as possible. Something about a shoot this Friday."

Ichigo rolled the idea around in his head, wondering what Yumichika had in mind this time. _The last shoot he'd attended had been interesting_. Yumichika had dressed him in nothing but white gauze bandages, wrapped around his entire body, slapped a section of silver duct tape over his mouth and painted "NOH8" over his right cheek, the letters capitalized and an inky black, while the "8" was a bright red. He'd taken a few poses like that and Yumichika had thanked him and gone about his business.

A few weeks later, he'd received the shots in the mail, encased in a large manila envelope. Yumichika's campaign was thriving and Ichigo had been proud to be a part of it. It protested the ban on same sex marriage in a state in America. Yumichika's partner, Ikkaku, lived in America and ran the campaign from there; Yumichika helped from Japan, sending him photos of willing participants.

"Is that all?" Ichigo asked, still a bit wary, even though his boss didn't seem to be ready to let go of him just yet.

Ilforte nodded and handed him a small post-it. Ichigo immediately recognized the elegant script of his friend, Yumichika. "You can take Friday off. Let me know how it goes," Ilforte stated, throwing Ichigo for a loop again.

 _Why did his boss care? Was he aware of what NOH8 was? If so, did that mean_... _?_

Ichigo shook his head slightly to clear it and rose from the plush seat he'd been perched on the edge of, "Ok," he replied.

 _He would call Yumichika when he got home_. _He was really curious about what the man had in store this time_.

XOXOXO

Grimmjow stood on the small stoop, rubbing the back of his neck in agitation. _He both loved and hated doing this_. _He loved seeing his godson, but he hated seeing the boy's mother_. _She was still in pain, trying to deal with Gin's death and it was excruciating to witness_. Sighing heavily, he rang the bell and waited for the summons to be answered, chuckling lowly at the sound of barking coming from behind the shut door.

During the wait, he took in the quiet neighborhood, smiling at the red and blue bike sprawled across the front lawn, the inflatable pool and the lush green grass. Gin had always been a yard stickler, making sure the grass was evenly trimmed and a glowing, poison green. The nice-sized house was taupe and off-white, the siding stucco and very westernized. The roof was shingled and gray and the windows were shuttered.

There were children playing in the street, some on scooters, some on skateboards and others on bikes. Cars were parked in the drives, leaving more playing and driving room in the empty street. He remembered helping Gin pick out the house, as well as the neighborhood.

Memories rose and overwhelmed him, making his chest tight and his throat thick with emotion. _He missed the hell out of his best friend_. _It was a daily trial not to say fuck everything and just once, not return from a burning building or structure_.

The lock was thrown and the door slowly swung open, revealing a beautiful woman with big, haunted, wheat-gray eyes and long, sea-green hair. Her figure could only be described as voluptuous, even though she wore a pink and blue, floral-print house dress that went just past her knees. A pale blue apron was tied around her waist and she was wiping her hands on a bright yellow dish towel.

A huge, golden Shiba Inu wound its way through her legs to pause at the door and study him as if inquiring who he was. The dog's name was Chiyo and he was ten years old. Gin had had him for the longest and had refused to part with him when he'd left his parent's home.

The smell of steamed rice and some type of sauce floated through the open door, making Grimmjow's stomach rumble loudly. The woman gave him a sideways smirk, quite unlike her normal sunflower-bright smiles, and asked, "When are you not hungry, Grimmjow?" her voice a mere ghost of its usual cheer.

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and gave her a small grin, "I'm a man, Nel. We're always hungry."

She let go a whisper of a chuckle and stepped back from the door, letting him enter. He stepped into the large sitting room, the carpet a slate gray and the walls a light-blue. The enormous, mounted, flat-screen TV was blaring the classic sounds and music of a video game, but the controller lay abandoned on the carpeted floor. Chiyo shuffled over and nosed his inner thigh, begging for attention and Grimmjow bent and scratched behind the dog's ear. A long, pink tongue lolled out of a widely grinning mouth and Chiyo emitted soft pants of pleasure.

Grimmjow grinned. _Now, all he was waiting for was_...

Before the thought could fully form in his mind, there was the thunderous noise of footsteps careening down the stairs before a small form plastered itself to the backs of his legs. Grimmjow grunted and twisted his torso, trying to get a look at the small boy clinging to him.

"Uncle Grimm!" a childishly high, muffled voice cried from the space between his legs. "When did you get here?"

Grimmjow chuckled quietly as he reached down and plucked the small, silver-haired boy from his calves. He lifted him into the air, receiving a steel-gripped neck hug in return before the boy settled on his hip, big, ice-blue eyes innocent and sparkling with life. There was a bright pink mess around the boy's mouth and he smelled strongly of cotton candy.

"Just now. What the hel – I mean, what the heck were ya eatin', Yoichi?" he questioned the youngster.

Aside from a light slap on his shoulder, Nel didn't respond to his almost slip as she made her way past him and towards the kitchen. Yoichi grinned ear to ear and it made Grimmjow's heart twist fiercely. _The kid was the spitting image of his father, minus the slitted eyes_. Yoichi's eyes were naturally wide like his mother's.

"Haha gimme taffy!" he exclaimed enthusiastically.

Grimmjow shook his head exasperatedly, "Yer gonna spoil yer dinner," he chided.

Yoichi arched a brow and gave him the classic "like I care" look. Grimmjow moved them to the dark-blue, plush, cushioned sofa and plopped down onto it, Yoichi still clinging to him like a baby sloth. "Uncle Grimm, didja bring me anythin'?" he chirped, turning those heart-stopping eyes on him.

He shook his head and ruffled feathery, silver locks that were sticking in every direction, refusing to be tamed. "Not this time, Yo-chi. Maybe next time, yeah?"

Yoichi grinned widely and nodded vigorously before twisting out of Grimmjow's lap and retrieving the once abandoned game controller. The noise and music escalated as Yoichi retreated into his own little world, racing Princess Peach and Luigi in Mario Kart.

Grimmjow swallowed his heart and tried not to let his emotions overpower him as he observed his best friend's son. _Thin as a reed, with short, silver hair and those humongous, ice-blue eyes, Yoichi really was his father's mini-me_. The boy was wearing a stain-covered, short-sleeved, white t-shirt, a pair of gray sweat-shorts and his feet were bare.

Shaking his head, Grimmjow turned his attention to the dog that had settled beside him, laying its head across his feet as it gazed up at him with huge, liquid-brown eyes. He reached down and rubbed across the dog's muzzle, mumbling a soft, "Yo, Chiyo."

Two hours went by, where Grimmjow was, for the most part, ignored in favor of Mario Kart as he reclined on the sofa. Then, Nel emerged from the kitchen and announced that dinner was ready. Grimmjow gathered Yoichi and led him to the bathroom to clean his face and hands before they settled at the table to eat. Nel fixed their bowls and plates, her demeanor distant and heavy with sadness, making frustration and anger clog his throat.

 _The hole Gin had left behind was gaping_.

**XxxxxxX**

**The Next Day**

"Fuck that! She was a slut, so I told the ho ta suck mah dick!"

Grimmjow chuckled and shook his head in amusement at his co-worker. Always uncouth and such a fucking retard, Shirosaki hated women. He considered them tools to be used for his pleasure and nothing more. Shirosaki was an albino, sporting ash-white hair, pale as skim milk skin and strange eyes. Instead of normal white sclera, his was pitch black and his irises were a pure, shining gold. His looks did nothing to diffuse his attitude and frankly, Grimmjow thought the guy was a hoot.

Renji Abarai stood off to his left, wide mouth pulled into a frown as he glared at the albino in disdain, "You fuckin' twat! That slut yer talkin' 'bout is my sister-in-law, so to speak..." Renji trailed off uncertainly.

Renji was another co-worker. He had long, bright-red hair and solemn russet-colored eyes. He was almost as tall as Grimmjow, almost as muscular and almost as tough... _but not quite_. The only person that had been able to keep up with him on that level had been Gin.

"Ya don' even know what she is ta ya? How come, Ren-chan? Is it 'cuz yer being boned by her brother?" Shiro stated loudly and obnoxiously.

Grimmjow smirked, knowing for all the mouth the albino possessed, he sure wasn't able to back it up when it came to their red-headed co-worker. _He knew_. _He'd seen the man try unsuccessfully_. _In his defense, it had been a really close call both times_.

After watching the two argue and gripe at each other for a little over three years, Grimmjow had come to the conclusion that Shirosaki was jealous of Renji's relationship with the Chief's son, a stoic, cold man with raven-hued hair. Grimmjow was no psychologist or anything, but he knew good old-fashioned attraction and jealousy when he saw it and what was going on between Renji and Shiro was nothing short of spectacular.

Grimmjow glanced at his watch and frowned. They were on their fifteen minute break before having to go back inside for training and it was his favorite part of the day. He had time to sit outside of the station and wait for the sexy ass, orange-haired guy named Ichigo to walk by on his way home from work. Grimmjow wondered what the man did for a living. He could never tell because whenever he saw Ichigo, he was always wearing street clothes.

He had been antagonizing Ichigo since he'd first lain eyes on him in middle school. Gin had recognized it for what it was: a crush, while Grimmjow, at the time, had adamantly denied it. Once they'd reached high school, though, his opinion had changed drastically. _Ichigo had gone and grown the fuck up on his spare time and the results had been fantastic_.

What had once been a gangly teenager had morphed into a sinfully sleek young man, the way a caterpillar transforms into a beautiful butterfly. Grimmjow had been floored, astonished, stunned, all that good shit and had made it his business to terrorize the guy even more. _He only did it to hide the fact that he wanted Ichigo_.

 _He wanted to fuck him until his nose bled and he was a fleshy pile of "what the fuck was that?"_.

Gin had been the only one to realize it and had teased him mercilessly over it, wondering why he didn't just be his usual self and ask the boy out. Or at the very least, coerce him into dropping his drawers for him. Grimmjow wasn't sure why he hesitated, either. _Maybe he didn't like the thought of being rejected?_ Whatever the case was, he was taking his time in luring in the orange-haired phenom. _He didn't want to show his hand just yet because when he did, he wanted it to come as a colossal surprise_.

He glanced down the street and his trademark grin slowly bloomed across his features, reaching up towards his ear lobes. _Although he was a tad bit late, Ichigo was right on schedule_. Grimmjow straightened to his full height, pushing away from the fire engine he'd been leaning against and drawing the attention of his co-workers.

Renji noticed first and followed his gaze, a knowing smile etching its way across his cheeks, tattooed eyebrows raised in amusement, "That yer little buddy?" he asked sarcastically.

Grimmjow didn't bother to respond, but Shiro twisted around to see what was going on. Once his gaze locked onto the graceful, orange-haired man, he turned an evil grin on him, "Ohhh? It's that time already, ne?"

Ichigo slowly made his way up the street and Grimmjow noticed with glee the darting glances he received. Ichigo was wearing a form-fitting, powder-blue, short-sleeved t-shirt, stonewashed blue jean shorts and powder-blue and white, high-top Converse sneakers. His bright, orange hair was shining like a homing beacon and his body was beckoning Grimmjow over like a prostitute on the stroll. Lean, wiry muscle was encased by tanned, bronze skin, lightly freckled and satiny. Grimmjow knew. He'd had the pleasure of touching it recently, when he'd hemmed the man up against the wall of the neighborhood park.

Grimmjow grinned wickedly at the sight of Ichigo's steps quickening. _One would think the guy would learn his lesson and take another route home, but just like clockwork, Ichigo passed the station everyday, without fail_. Straightening his plain, white tee and dark-blue tear-away warm up pants, he crossed the street towards Ichigo.

"Yo, Berry-chan, how goes it?" he greeted, knowing the name would infuriate the other man.

 _Hell, it was the only reason he used it_. _He loved pissing Ichigo off_.

Sure enough, Ichigo whirled and pulled up short, glaring murder-death-kill in his direction, gooey brown eyes lit with an inner fire, "Why do you bug me? What have I ever done to you?" he snapped, alluring face flushing angrily. His voice was deep and husky, like he'd just rolled out of bed.

 _Such a lovely visual_.

Grimmjow grinned and shrugged nonchalantly, "Toldja before, I like fuckin' witcha. How come ya won' loosen up, Berry-chan?" he teased, loving the way Ichigo's eyes strayed to his torso as he stuffed his hands into his pockets.

 _Oh, he was no fool_. _He saw the lust in those maple-brown depths whenever he was within arms-length of the fiery red head_.

"Stop fucking calling me that!"

"Why?" he drawled, easing closer, ratcheting the tension level up to epic proportions.

Ichigo gulped and his eyes went all half-lidded and sexy, "B-because that's not my name," he mumbled, eyes riveted to Grimmjow's mouth.

Grimmjow licked his lips, just to be evil and gave a serrated grin, "What're ya gonna do if I don' stop?"

Ichigo frowned as an afterthought as he said, "I'll make you stop," his voice not as firm as Grimmjow imagined he wanted it to be.

He stepped closer, backing Ichigo against the wall and leaving him with no escape. _Ichigo smelled like seawater and coconut body oil, musky and intoxicating_. Grimmjow placed his hands on either side of the shorter man's head and dipped his head to eye level, lowering his voice as he murmured, "Try."

He watched in satisfaction as Ichigo's eyes darkened to a smoldering sienna, eyelids drooping even further as he watched Grimmjow lick his lips again. _Kami, what he wouldn't give to just kiss this man and make him scream in seven different languages_.

 _Not now, though_. _Ichigo wasn't quite ready to be plucked_.

Grimmjow stepped back and smiled when Ichigo drew in a deep breath as if he'd been drowning and had just broken the water's surface. "See ya around, Berry-chan," he said lowly and ambled back to the station, only glancing over his shoulder once to see Ichigo watching him, expression dumbstruck. He smirked to himself and sauntered past his co-workers, who followed him into the building, pelting his back with question after question and when it was obvious he wasn't about to answer, Shirosaki started in with the taunts.

"So, ya gonna fuck 'im er what? I mean, ya looked like ya wanted ta," he accused, snowy brows drawn together.

"I don't see why or how thas any a'yer business," Grimmjow rumbled, making his way to the weight room.

Renji's voice held a grin as he said, "It's pretty obvious, Grimmjow."

Grimmjow didn't even bother to respond as he moved towards the bench press and started loading it with weights. Before he could settle down and get into the swing of things, a short, dark-haired woman peeked inside the room and called his name.

He acknowledged her with a look, so she continued, "You've got a phone call in the office. Someone named Yumichika?" she said with an uncertain shrug.

Grimmjow frowned, wondering who the hell a Yumichika was as he stepped around the bench press.

 _Guess he would find out soon enough_.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach...

Onwards...

XOXOXO

Grimmjow followed the dark-haired woman to the office, also known as the lounge area. A black wall phone dangled by its spiral cord and he headed over to it, grabbing it and irritatedly answering with a curt, "Yeah."

There was a pause on the other end before an airy voice floated through the receiver, making Grimmjow scowl in confusion. _He definitely didn't recognize the voice_. "Is this Grimmjow Jaegerjaques?"

Grimmjow rolled his eyes and leaned against the wall. "Ain't that who ya asked for?" he asked, annoyance steadily increasing.

"Tch. Really, there's no need to be rude. I guess you haven't changed much since high school," the voice huffed disdainfully.

Grimmjow's scowl deepened as he concentrated on the voice, trying to match it with a face from his memory bank. _He was coming up empty with each attempt_. Finally, he just asked. "Who the fuck are you?"

The person on the other line gave a long-suffering sigh. "Ayasegawa Yumichika. You called me Yumi-chick all through high school. I hated you; I still hate you, but I think we can be of some use to each other, for once."

Grimmjow paused and the nickname finally rang bells in his mind as an image floated to the fore. _Short guy with short, jet-black hair_. _Looked exactly like a chick, hence the name "Yumi-chick"_. An evil grin curled his lips upwards. "Ohhhh. I remember ya now. Ya used ta trail after Ikkaku all the time," he stated before continuing, a thoughtful frown tugging at his brow. "How can _you_ be of use ta _me_?" he questioned.

"Ugh, figures. You're still a hemorrhoidal asshole. And _excuse me_ , but this usefulness thing goes _both_ ways. Jerk," Yumi-chick snapped angrily. Grimmjow chuckled and opened his mouth to comment, but was beaten to the punch. "I understand that you're gay, Grimm-Jackass."

The smile completely left his face as he pulled the phone from his ear and stared at it as if it had suddenly come alive and started licking him. _Say what, now?_ "What the fuck didja just call me? And how the hell ya know that? We were never friends!" he inquired stiffly, hair bristling with fury.

"Oh, please! Do give me a break, Grimm-Jerk. I am a gay man; my gay-dar is flawless, dear. You were quite see-through, even in high school," Yumi-chick said offhandedly, but Grimmjow could hear the smug undertone.

"Ya little-" Grimmjow growled, but was cut off before he could really get going.

"Listen, I didn't call you to reminisce or trade insults. It doesn't matter if you're gay or not, although, I know you are. Either way, I want to use you for a photo shoot for Ikkaku's campaign in America."

Grimmjow had his mouth set to spew pure venom, but paused at the other man's words. _Photo shoot? Ikkaku's campaign in America? What was Yumi-chick babbling about and how did this benefit him?_

"What're ya talkin' about?" he tentatively asked.

Grimmjow could hear the grin in Yumi-chick's voice as he responded. "Just what I said. The campaign is silently protesting the ban on same-sex marriage in California of America; something called Prop 8. We use photos to do this and we call it NOH8. I want to use you because of your occupation. Ikkaku and I had the idea to gather men and women and shoot them wearing the uniforms of their occupations. Your sexual preference is just a bonus. So, what do you say? Will you do it?"

Grimmjow couldn't deny the cause was a noble one and he really didn't mind taking a few pictures. _He just didn't like the little twerp on the other end of the phone_. After considering it for a few minutes, he sighed and shrugged, even though he knew Yumi-chick couldn't see the motion. "Fine. When am I supposed ta do this?" he grumbled.

Yumi-chick let out an excited squeal and Grimmjow cringed, aggravated. "Friday! Friday morning, nine-thirty, at The Center and don't forget to bring your gear!"

Grimmjow grunted and hung up the phone. He rubbed his chin and grimaced as he thought about what he'd just agreed to. _It wasn't the cause or the campaign or even the photo shoot that disgruntled him; it was the idiot running the show that made his stomach lurch with irritation_.

Grimmjow left the lounge and headed back to the weight room, his mind on the upcoming shoot. _Now that he thought about it, did Yumi-chick mean bring ALL of his gear?_

XOXOXO

Ichigo dropped onto his couch and let out a deep sigh of relief. His AC was pumping and pouring blissful waves of cold air throughout the apartment and his previously scorching skin was finally cooling down.

 _He couldn't stop his heart from clanging around wildly in the prison of his ribcage, though_.

Grimmjow had again accosted him on his way home, but this time, something had most definitely been different. The taller man had pinned him to the wall with his aura and sex appeal alone, turning Ichigo's tongue into little more than a useless strip of flesh in his mouth.

Sure, the man had been his usual cocky and obnoxious self, but there was something else there that Ichigo just couldn't pinpoint and it was driving him crazy. Grimmjow had been so close that any closer and they would have merged like a highway. _Then, there was the look in those stunning, blue eyes that confused him even further_. Normally, those dancing spheres of endless blue were mocking, devilish, at the very least, mischievous, but today had been...lusty. There was no other way to describe it, but Ichigo wasn't willing to believe it. He didn't even think Grimmjow was gay, let alone interested in him. He had always seen the guy surrounded by his friends and flocks of girls eager to do whatever he pleased. Grimmjow could probably tell them to lick his big toe and they would without reproach or complaint, never mind hesitation.

Ichigo sighed and lay his head back against the cushions. He started to get comfortable, but changed his mind and went to the kitchen in search of a cold beer. _His mouth was dry and he was definitely in the mood for one after his ordeal with Grimmjow_.

He pulled the door of the fridge open, grabbed a glass bottle and using his back teeth, peeled off the cap. He spit the cap in the trash as he moved towards the white wall phone, chugging down half the bottle in one go. He fished around in his shorts pockets for the folded up post-it Ilforte had given him with Yumichika's number on it. _He could use this time to call his friend and find out what he wanted_.

As his fingers wrapped around the sharp, jutting edges of the tiny slip of paper, Ichigo's mind went to his boss's strange behavior. Ilforte had scared the shit out of him, questioning him and then bringing out the other photos Ichigo had done for NOH8, only to turn around and be one hundred percent supportive of what he was doing, even going as far as giving him the day off Friday. Something weird was going on with the tall, blond man as well and Ichigo was left just as baffled as the Grimmjow situation left him.

Ichigo freed the post-it from his pocket and unfolded it, slowly reading the number as he punched it in on the phone. He lifted the receiver to his ear and waited while the connection was made. Three rings and a breathy, airy voice answered. "Yumichika speaking."

Ichigo grinned as he cradled the receiver between shoulder and ear. "Yo, Yumi, it's Ichigo."

Yumichika gave a small gasp of pleasure and Ichigo could feel the man's happiness. "Ichigo! I was wondering when you would call me! How have you been? All well, I hope. Can I just say that your boss is disgustingly hot?" the dark-haired man rattled off and all Ichigo could do was laugh. _Yumichika was made of energy, radiating it like a portable heater_.

"Oi, Yumi, slow down. I've been good. As far as my boss goes, you can say whatever you want. Free world, ne?"

Yumichika hummed and prattled on. "Are you free to do another shoot Friday? I spoke to your delicious-looking boss and he said he would give you the day off. Now, tell me you love me! Or has he gone back on his word?"

Ichigo shook his head, resigning himself to the fact that Yumichika wasn't going to slow his conversational pace. "He gave me the day off. What did you have in mind this time? The same thing?" he questioned, curious.

Yumichika paused, took a breath and continued. "No, this time we wanted to try something different. We want men and women to pose in their occupational uniforms. Will you be willing to pose in that sexy wetsuit you wear to work?" he inquired teasingly.

 _Yumichika was such a shameless flirt_.

"That's it?"

"Well, yeah. That, the tape and our logo, of course."

Ichigo nodded. "Cool. What time Friday and where?" he asked, all business. _He liked Yumichika, but the man's tireless energy wore him out_.

"Nine-thirty in the morning, at The Center," Yumichika answered. "And don't forget your wetsuit! Oh, and bring your goggles, too. I might want them around your neck or something," he muttered absently, mind obviously putting together the picture he was imagining.

"Ok, see you then, Yumi," Ichigo said and hung up the phone without waiting for a response.

 _He was tired and wanted a nap_.

XOXOXO

**Friday**

Grimmjow climbed the large set of stone stairs that led to Karakura's arena, The Center. Able to seat twenty thousand people, the place was the town's pride and joy. _He wondered how that little idiot, Yumi-chick, had managed to afford holding his photo shoot in this place_.

Grimmjow gripped the strap of the big, dark-gray duffel bag he had slung over his back as he approached one set of the many sets of double doors surrounding the entire building. He pulled on the handle and stepped inside, his eyes trying to adjust to the sudden dim lighting compared to the blazing brightness outside. _It was only 9:15 am and already hellishly hot_.

A sign with an arrow pointing to his left, announced "NOH8 photo shoot, this way" and he followed it, cursing under his breath when he realized it was leading him all the way to the other side of the building. Finally, he found the entrance and went through the indicated door, his breath leaving his lungs in a rush at the sight that greeted him.

He was on the first level at the top of maybe thirty stairs, looking down at a covered floor with several sections partitioned off for separate shoots. There were more than six sections with their own photographers and Grimmjow was only able to tell the difference by the white backdrops and huge, surrounding lights. The arena lights were dimmed, making the overall effect that much more profound.

After overcoming his initial shock, he closed his mouth and headed down the stairs towards the crowd of people milling about in hundreds of different uniforms. _How the fuck was he supposed to find Yumi-chick – whom he hadn't seen since high school, mind you – in this mess?_ As soon as the thought entered his mind, he spotted a wide, rectangular table, where five people were seated before opened laptops.

He made his way over to it, completely aware of all the eyes following him and stood in line behind a tall, gorgeous blonde woman. She turned to glance at him with serious, clear, green eyes before returning her eyes to the front. She wore a long, white lab coat over teal scrubs and white slides. She had a surgeon's mask over her face, blocking the view of her mouth and nose and Grimmjow shuddered. _She was intense_.

He was taller than most everyone in the place, so he was able to see over them to watch what was going on. Lights flashed and popped, photographers were giving instructions and it was all just surreal. _So, this was what a professional photo shoot was like_. A few minutes later and he was at the front of the table facing a blond man, a long fold of his hair hanging over his left eye and the rest tucked behind his ears. He glanced up at Grimmjow with turquoise-colored eyes and smiled.

"Name?" he asked, his voice a comforting tenor.

Grimmjow cocked a brow and smirked. The guy was cute, but he had another man on his mind. _Didn't mean he couldn't look and appreciate, though_. "Grimmjow Jaegerjaques."

The man's eyes widened and a blush crawled its way up his neck and across his cheeks as he lowered his head, focusing on the black laptop before him. He had his fingers poised over the keys, ready to type, but paused as a frown tugged at his brow. "Um, how do you spell that?" he asked quietly, not daring to look up.

Grimmjow let his smirk widen as he spelled his name. "G-R-I-M-M-J-O-W. Surname J-A-E-G-E-R-J-A-Q-U-E-S. What's yers?"

The man had been typing in the letters as Grimmjow spoke them, but jerked in surprise when Grimmjow asked for his name. He glanced up, startled. "E-excuse me?" he stuttered.

Grimmjow allowed a full-blown grin to form. "What's yer name?"

 _He loved flirting; it was so fun_.

The man's blush deepened to a bright crimson and covered his ears. "K-Kira."

"Oh. Nice ta meet ya, Kira."

Kira smiled shyly down at the laptop as he clicked a button. "You too-" he ended abruptly as his eyebrows disappeared into his hairline, his eyes riveted to the screen. A slow grin spread his lips upwards. "Yumichika-san wants to work with you himself. He's at stand six."

Grimmjow blinked and then regained his composure. _What a coincidence_. _Yumi-chick at stand six seemed more like fate to him_. "An' that's...where exactly?" he asked, turning to look at the different shoot setups.

"All the way over there," Kira said, standing and pointing directly to the right. Grimmjow grimaced. _Figures_. Yumi-chick's setup was all the way on the far side of the floor.

Grimmjow gave Kira a nod and headed off in that direction, hiking his bag higher across his back as not to mistakenly hit anyone he passed by. It didn't take him as long as he'd thought it would to cross the floor covered with people and before he knew it, he was approaching stand six, the number six on what looked like a flag football sideline marker, propped beside a light that looked like an opened umbrella.

There were people dressed in different uniforms and seated in the seats beside the shoot setup. Grimmjow heard the annoying voice before he saw the irritating man. Yumi-chick stood off to the side of the setup, a large, black camera hanging from his slender neck as he talked to a brown-haired guy with dark eyes. The brunet was clutching a clipboard and looking very much intimidated as he listened to Yumi-chick, who was wearing all black. A short-sleeved, black turtle-neck shirt, black skinny jeans and black, low-top Converse sneakers. His hair was still worn in that short, feminine bob, but today he was sporting red and yellow feathers around his right eye.

Grimmjow rolled his eyes and ambled over. _Yumi-chick obviously hadn't shaken his love for all things dramatic_. The brunet had just shuffled off when Grimmjow stepped up beside Yumi-chick. Yumi-chick turned to face him, mouth opened to speak, when it snapped shut and he stood still as a stone, staring with a blank expression.

Grimmjow arched a brow and waved a hand in front of the shorter man's face. "Helloooo?" he tried.

Yumi-chick scowled and slapped his hand away. "It's a shame such beauty is wasted on a brute like you," he snapped, elegant face pinched and lavender eyes fiery.

"Fuck you, Pixie-dust," Grimmjow growled. "Ya wanted me here, so here I am."

Yumi-chick looked like he wanted to say something, but thought better of it, or rather just didn't bother. He turned his back and indicated Grimmjow to follow him. They trooped to a small area behind the setup's backdrop and Yumi-chick led Grimmjow into a tiny tent, sectioned off into several different spaces. There were curtains hanging on one side, where Grimmjow assumed the models were supposed to change clothes and then, there was a vanity table surrounded by lights on the other side. Another shorter, dark-haired man stood beside it, arranging brushes and small jars into neat rows.

"Go find an empty space and put on your gear pants with the suspenders. Did you bring your helmet and boots?" Yumi-chick asked brusquely, eyes taking in Grimmjow's entire body. _He felt like the other man had just stripped him of his plain, white tee and navy-blue basketball shorts_.

"Yeah, I got em."

"Good, go put em on and meet me over here at this table when you're done," Yumi-chick said, pointing at the vanity table.

Grimmjow nodded and did as told, finding an empty little curtained space to change clothes behind.

XOXOXO

Ichigo made his way through the thick throng of people gathered for the NOH8 shoot, having been pointed in the direction of Yumichika's shoot setup. He carried a duffel bag, containing one of his wetsuits and a pair of his goggles over his right shoulder. He was wearing a gray, short-sleeved tee and red basketball shorts.

 _He was ready_.

He broke through the crowd and looked around for his friend, finally spotting him standing in front of a small tent behind the shoot setup. Yumichika was fanning himself with a folded sheet of paper, his free hand perched on his hip as he studiously stared at the ceiling of the arena. Ichigo approached him and smiled.

"What's wrong, Yumi?" he asked, gaining the other man's attention.

Yumi turned his eyes on Ichigo and they widened. "Ichigo! You're late! You have to hurry so I can get some shots of you alone before I start pairing people up," Yumi stated, waving the sheet of paper around.

Ichigo frowned. _Pairing people up?_ "What do you mean by pairing people up?" he asked as Yumi pushed him into the tent and towards a tiny curtained section.

"Hurry and change! I'll explain later!" he exclaimed and hurried away.

Ichigo arched a brow, confused, but pulled the curtain around himself as he dropped his bag to the floor. He stripped out of his clothes and pulled his under armor free from his duffel bag. He stepped into the black, skin-tight shorts and sleeveless top, then pulled his black and arctic blue wetsuit over it, yanking the string up the back to close the zipper. He grabbed his blue goggles, hung them from his neck and slipped his feet back into his black flip flops. _He was sure Yumi would want him to be barefoot, but until then, he was wearing his sandals_.

He closed his duffel bag and carried it over to the makeup station, Mizuiro waiting beside it. "Oi, Mizuiro," Ichigo greeted.

The dark-haired man looked up and smiled cheerfully. "Ichigo! Long time, no see! Nice outfit! You a scuba diver?"

Ichigo shook his head as he took a seat in front of the vanity mirror. "Nah, I'm a commercial diver, but I do give scuba lessons one week out of August every year in Okinawa," he answered proudly.

"Sweet." Mizuiro gave Ichigo's face a light dusting of flesh-colored powder, meticulously painted the NOH8 logo onto his right cheek and sent him on his way. "There. Yumi's waiting for you out front."

Ichigo nodded. "OK, thanks. Later, Mizuiro."

"Later, Ichigo."

Ichigo left the tent and as soon as he stepped to the side of the shoot setup, his breath choked to a stop and the hair all over his body stood on end. He'd been curious of the numerous flashes and wanted to see who Yumi was shooting at the moment. He hadn't been expecting to find what he did.

 _There, against the white backdrop that covered some of the floor as well, with an oiled chest dancing under the fluorescent shoot lights and bright, blue hair shining like a Head and Shoulders commercial, was his worst nightmare and favorite wet dream_.

 _Grimmjow_.

_What the fuck on skates was he doing there?_

Ichigo refused to budge, afraid that whatever illusion this was would disappear the instant he did. Grimmjow had on those baggy, black fire fighting pants and those huge, black and yellow fire boots. The pants had reflective bands around the thigh and ankle areas and the yellow suspenders were down, displaying every bit of that Zeus-like torso. His tattoos were stark and standing out with a vengeance against his shining chest and arms and Ichigo was dying the most wonderful death ever.

 _He couldn't breathe and didn't want to_.

He stared helplessly, unable to even close his mouth. Grimmjow had a strip of silver, duct tape over his mouth, but his brilliant blue eyes were lit up, devilish amusement in their abysmal depths, indicating he would be grinning were it not for the tape. NOH8 must have been written on his left cheek, since it wasn't on the right and his black, fire helmet dangled lazily from his right hand.

 _Oh, Kami_.

Ichigo clutched his chest, wishing he had his cell phone so he could snap a few of his own photos. Grimmjow was sex personified in the wickedest way, like putting the devil in a three-piece suit. He was lethal, pure testosterone and absolutely titillating.

Blinding arousal arrested Ichigo, shucking his mind out of his skull as he continued to visually molest the blue-haired magnum opus. _There was no REASON for one person to be that physically perfect_. _None whatsoever_. He let out a tentative breath and sighed the rest through his nose when Grimmjow didn't disappear.

_What was the man doing there?_

Ichigo was confused. He knew one didn't have to be gay to model for the NOH8 campaign, but still...it was just a startling revelation to see Grimmjow there, looking downright edible in his fire fighting gear. What Ichigo wouldn't give to run his hands over that matchless torso, those wondrously sculpted arms and that thickly corded neck.

 _Fuck, he was about to start drooling any second now_.

Suddenly, Yumi lowered his camera, face flushed a bright red as his eyes landed on Ichigo. Ichigo cringed, forgetting that he was going to have to model as well and that that would gain him the attention of the blue-haired man he was just eyeing like a million yen check.

"Ichigo, you ready?" Yumi called and just like Ichigo thought, Grimmjow turned those atmospheric blue eyes in his direction, perfect eyebrows raised in surprise.

They locked eyes and stared for kami knows how long, until Yumi cleared his throat loudly, an amused grin pulling at his lips. "Thanks, Grimm-Jerk. Ichigo, come on." Ichigo watched as Grimmjow scowled at Yumi and reached for the strip of duct tape covering his mouth. "No, keep that on. I'm going to pair the two of you together for the next set of shots," Yumi added coyly, making Ichigo and Grimmjow exchange startled glances again before turning back to the dark-haired male running the show.

Ichigo's heart was throbbing agitatedly at the thought of taking a photo close to Grimmjow while he was dressed like that. _The results wouldn't be good_. _In fact, he was certain they would be disastrous_. He kicked off his flip flops and stepped unsteadily onto the white backdrop, Grimmjow's laser-like gaze piercing his soul and searing his skin. Yumi strolled up and cut a small strip of silver duct tape from the roll he wore around his wrist like a bangle. Ichigo took it gingerly and placed it over his mouth.

He glanced over at Grimmjow and almost sank to the floor in a gooey puddle of turned-the-fuck-on. Those ultramarine eyes were positively smoldering and stalking him like a lion. Ichigo whimpered softly, glad that Yumi had gone back to his spot beyond the lighting and wasn't able to hear his moment of weakness. _Grimmjow was making this harder than it needed to be_. _His eyes were like scary teachers to a third-grader_.

And Ichigo was feeling very small.

XOXOXO

Grimmjow was shocked, but bigger than that, he was excited. _He was aroused_. _He was intrigued_. _He was in fucking hog heaven_.

He was so astonished by the sight of Ichigo, he had blatantly stared, his guard completely down. What was more, Ichigo had stared right back, heat laced throughout his molten brown eyes. If eyes could talk, Ichigo's would be saying "come fuck me, Grimmjow" and Grimmjow was sure that it wasn't his imagination.

He stood off to the side of the shoot setup, devouring the sight of Ichigo in an impossibly tight, light-blue and black wetsuit, blue goggles hanging around his neck. _Was he a scuba diver?_ Grimmjow didn't give a rat's ass if Ichigo spent his days foraging through sewage for his next meal, as long as he wore that outfit while doing it, he was straight.

Ichigo's bright orange hair was gleaming like a halo on his head, some areas so bright, they almost appeared blond. Grimmjow couldn't see the logo that must have been painted on his right cheek, but the duct tape over his mouth made him think fantastically naughty thoughts, none of them moral. A distinct twitch shifted his baggy turnout pants when Ichigo squatted and the material of his suit hugged every last line of his muscular and wiry frame.

Grimmjow shifted his weight to his right foot and ran a hand through his hair, wondering just how he was going to manage keeping his hands off the orange-haired man when Yumi-chick paired them up. Speaking of which, Grimmjow had a feeling that the little dark-haired prick was pairing them together on purpose.

 _He hadn't missed the look of amusement in those lavender eyes while he and Ichigo visually raped each other_.

Growling under his breath, he glared beyond the bright lights at the shorter, meddling photographer. His attention didn't stay there long after Yumi-chick ordered Ichigo to stand, remove his goggles from his neck and drape them over his shoulder, loosely hanging from his hand. Then, Ichigo was told to put his free hand on his slim hip and shift his weight to his left side. Ichigo obeyed and stared into the camera, one orange eyebrow arched playfully and bronze eyes glittering with something Grimmjow had never witnessed before. _It made him want to march over to the red head and drag him behind that backdrop, where he would commence to doing the dirtiest things he could imagine to him_.

 _Sex_. _Ichigo's eyes were powerfully exuding it_.

Yumi-chick flashed away for a minute longer, finally lowering the camera and grinning widely at Ichigo. "Thanks, Ichigo! You always give such good shots!"

Ichigo nodded and glanced over in Grimmjow's direction, eyes still screaming "fuck me" and it made Grimmjow growl behind the stupid duct tape over his mouth. _Give him half a chance and he would have Ichigo twitching with residual bliss five hours AFTER the fact_.

Yumi-chick interrupted their visual communication again, this time snapping his fingers. "Honestly, would you two either poop or get off the pot already? I can't stand the freaking tension!" he crowed.

Ichigo turned a pretty maroon, distracting Grimmjow from what he was currently doing: giving that little fairy, Yumi-chick, the bird. His eyes hungrily roamed the sleek muscles hugging Ichigo's slender body as he edged closer to the set. Yumi-chick sighed and stepped forward, nudging his back and urging him on faster.

Grimmjow looked over his shoulder and gave the shorter man a look that should have made him wither up and float away. Yumi-chick just ignored it, removing his hand on his own. "Grimmjow, sit down on the floor. Let your left leg stretch out and bend your right leg."

Grimmjow gave the dark-haired man a puzzled look, receiving an impatient one in return. He shrugged. _Whatever_. He lowered his body to the floor, every bit aware of Ichigo's burnt sienna orbs molesting the hell out of him as he did so. He positioned his legs, set his helmet to his left and looked up at Yumi-chick expectantly, marveling at how detached the man seemed to be as he studied Grimmjow. He seemed like he was far away inside his mind, figuring out how he wanted this particular set of shots to go.

"Lean back on your hands," Yumi-chick muttered softly, stooping beside him. Grimmjow did so, scowling when dainty hands tugged one of his suspenders over his shoulder. Yumi-chick grinned like he'd just found the cure for all sicknesses. "Perfect," he chirped, then turned to Ichigo. "Come here, Ichigo. You don't mind posing with this ape, do you? It may be a bit suggestive. I should have asked you before, but I didn't think you would mind since it's nothing really serious. Everything's just implied."

Grimmjow's and Ichigo's eyes widened at the same time as they exchanged looks again. _What did Yumi-chick mean by suggestive? Or rather, how suggestive? And what was going to be implied?_ Grimmjow passed his glance back and forth between the two men, wondering what the dark-haired photographer had up his sleeve.

Ichigo darted his eyes warily at Grimmjow and Grimmjow grinned behind the duct tape, even though it pulled and pinched his skin. _He loved that innocent look in the red head's eyes_. When Ichigo turned back to Yumi-chick and nodded slowly, Grimmjow had to suppress a wiggle of joy. _Whatever Yumi-chick had in mind, he was so down for it_. _He was ready to jump in head-first_. Inwardly snickering at his pun, he waited for Yumi-chick to finish setting them up.

"Ok, good! Ichigo, kneel down over him. I want your right leg outside of his left and your left inside of his right. You get what I mean?" Yumi-chick asked. Grimmjow chuckled behind the tape at the look of sheer horror on Ichigo's face. _Ichigo looked like he'd just been sentenced to death_. Yumi-chick stepped forward and waved a hand past Ichigo's face. "Ichigo? You OK?"

Ichigo shook his head as if to clear it and focused on Yumi-chick's concerned expression. His chest rose and fell pointedly as he took a deep breath and nodded. His hands were balled at his sides as he edged closer to Grimmjow, regarding him like he was a fire-breathing dragon. Grimmjow couldn't help but watch in smug satisfaction. _He was looking forward to Ichigo hovering over him the way Yumi-chick explained, the way a toddler looks forward to making as much noise as humanly possible_.

Ichigo stood over him for a few seconds before finally lowering himself over Grimmjow's legs the way Yumi-chick had ordered. Grimmjow's hands twitched at his sides as he had to force down the urge to grip Ichigo by those slim hips and situate him in his lap. Instead, he watched the red head with eyes that clearly belied his naked desire for the man. _There was no way he could hide it in a situation such as this_.

Ichigo was perched over him, hands planted on either side of his torso, left knee brushing dangerously close to Grimmjow's equipment and right knee caressing Grimmjow's left hip. The younger man's unique scent wafted over him and filled his senses. _Shit, shit, shit_. Grimmjow was surprised he wasn't pitching a very visible tent in his turnout pants. _Luckily, the material was thick and heavy, so his growing arousal couldn't be seen_.

Ichigo was trying to avoid his gaze by staring down at his chest, but Grimmjow didn't want that. He reached up, gripped the shorter man's chin and forced his head up, startled nut-brown eyes finally finding his smoldering blue. Those butterscotch-brown eyes sparked and suddenly, his eyelids lowered to half-mast. He and Ichigo stared and stared, oblivious to the dark-haired man clicking away with his camera, numerous flashes blinking in rapid succession.

Ichigo's right hand left the floor and hesitantly ghosted across Grimmjow's left pectoral, reaching for the yellow suspender. Grimmjow's breath caught in his throat as he watched the younger man slowly slide the suspender down over his shoulder. _He'd completely missed Yumi-chick telling Ichigo to do it_.

 _Kami, he wanted Ichigo_.

 _Desperately_.

 _Fuck it_.

He reached up and ran his left hand up the other man's back, making Ichigo arch into him with a low groan. Grimmjow's heart rate kicked up to Nascar speeds as he swallowed harshly. _He so wanted to run his hand down and over Ichigo's ass, cupping the firm-looking muscles and squeezing gently_. _He wished they were naked so he could show Ichigo just why the man was afraid of him_.

As it were, he let his hand leave the other man's back, only to trace up Ichigo's right arm, over his shoulder and languidly up the right side of his neck, cupping the back of it and fingering the silken strands at Ichigo's nape. _He'd wanted to do that for the longest time and now that he had the opportunity, he wasn't letting it slip away_.

Ichigo gave him a look that was a mixture of confusion and arousal. His eyes both asked "what are you doing?" and said "whatever it is, please don't stop" and Grimmjow had no intention to. _If he read the red head's expression clearly, Ichigo had been wanting this for just as long_. Grimmjow grunted and narrowed his eyes, questioning Ichigo without using words. _You want me?_

Ichigo seemed to get it because he averted his gaze, a deep blush spreading over his face before he turned back and locked eyes again, nodding subtly. _Hell yeah._ Grimmjow wanted to kiss him, wanted to roll him over and thoroughly violate him, but there were more than a few obstacles in his way. _For one, the dark-haired photographer energetically snapping photo after photo of them only a few feet away_. _Two, the stupid duct tape_. _And third, their clothes_. _He wouldn't mind peeling Ichigo out of that skintight outfit, though_. _That was something intriguing in itself_.

Ichigo surprised him and ran curious hands over his chest and abdomen, searching and learning the contours of his upper body, while Grimmjow watched in fascination. There was a satisfied and ecstatic glint in those warm, mahogany eyes and it made Grimmjow hot all over. He groaned when Ichigo's thumb absently flicked over a taut nipple, the noise vibrating his chest. _The red head was treading dangerous ground now_. Grimmjow lifted his eyes and the look he found residing on Ichigo's beautiful face, made him long to rip off the annoying duct tape and suck all over him until Ichigo was one big hickey.

The way the shorter man mapped his torso with slightly roughened hands had him panting behind the duct tape, until Yumi-chick interrupted, stepping onto the backdrop wearing a wide, smug grin. Grimmjow frowned as he glared up at Yumi-chick, angry at being pulled from the delicious things Ichigo had been doing to him.

"I believe I've got more than enough for the shots I need. Thanks!" the dark-haired man said a little too happily.

Ichigo seemed to realize what he had been doing and jumped to his feet like a cat on fire. He peeled away the duct tape and Grimmjow's eyes immediately honed in on those full lips that were pink and tempting. "You're done?" he asked breathily.

Yumi-chick nodded as Grimmjow removed his duct tape as well, grimacing at the sharp sting. He didn't say anything as he observed Ichigo getting ready to scamper away like a rabbit. He cast one last lusty glance in Grimmjow's direction and took off for the tent behind the backdrop. Grimmjow hurried to his feet and followed on his heels, ignoring Yumi-chick thanking him. _He was far too preoccupied on the target of his desire trying to flee the scene_.

He stepped into the tent, head swiveling back and forth as he searched for the orange-haired man. He finally spotted his unmistakable silhouette at the far end of the tent behind one of the changing curtains. Grimmjow marched over and without preamble, threw the beige fabric aside, startling the man behind it, those doe-brown eyes wide and vulnerable.

Grimmjow replaced the curtain and turned back to Ichigo. "Wh-what are you doing?" Ichigo asked uncertainly, eyes shooting to the once again closed curtain.

"Ya think I'm gonna let ya run off after all that?" Grimmjow inquired. He hadn't really been expecting an answer, so when Ichigo just gaped without responding, he stepped in and pulled the shorter man to his chest, his arms locking around him. "I ain't pretendin' anymore," he rumbled, lowering his voice to a thick burr.

Grimmjow wasted no time connecting their lips and Ichigo wasted no time melding himself to him like he belonged there. They both groaned in relief as if they had been dying of thirst and finally given an ice cold glass of water. Both of their mouths were sticky around the edges from the duct tape, but neither of them cared. Grimmjow slanted his mouth aggressively, prying open Ichigo's delectable mouth and plundering its depths.

 _Fucking A_.

 _Ichigo tasted like peppermints and smelled like the ocean_.

Grimmjow couldn't get enough.

The kiss was wet, loud, and thoroughly arousing. Grimmjow rotated his hips, grinding against the shorter man's pelvis, tempted to just strip and do the damned thing right then and there. Ichigo reached up and grabbed a fistful of Grimmjow's hair, tugging sharply and angling his head to the side for better access. Their tongues were a twisted mass, writhing and contorting in the most erotic of dances.

 _Breathing wasn't important_.

 _Neither was thinking_.

 _All that mattered right now was feeling_.

Grimmjow tried to pull Ichigo closer, but it was impossible as they were already as close as two people could be without becoming one. He growled low in his chest and sucked Ichigo's tongue into his mouth, savoring the sharply sweet flavor and the way Ichigo moaned like a wanton prostitute.

Suddenly, there was a loud click and a blinding flash. He and Ichigo lifted their heads, but neither bothered to pull away from the other as they searched for the source of the disturbance. Yumi-chick stood at the makeshift entrance, the curtain wrenched to the side as he held his camera and wore a shit-eating grin.

"That was so beautiful," he said wistfully, lavender eyes starry.

Grimmjow grimaced and glanced down at Ichigo, who was blushing ten shades of red, but also refusing to budge from his spot in Grimmjow's arms. Grimmjow grinned wolfishly and nosed the red head's temple in appreciation. _He was going to have Ichigo all to himself, even if it killed him_.

He reached around, closed the curtain in Yumi-chick's face with a forceful snap of material and turned back to Ichigo, who glanced up at him shyly, a tiny smile hovering over his lips. Grimmjow's grin widened before he captured those lips in another heated kiss.

 _Or maybe Ichigo was his already_.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach...

Onwards...

XOXOXO

Clothes came off in a hurry and harsh breathing echoed throughout the room. Ichigo was on fire from head to toe and it had a lot to do with the fire fighter standing in front of him, kissing him retarded. Grimmjow had an iron grip on his waist and was backing him towards the bed – they'd chosen Ichigo's apartment; it was closer – their lips still connected and bodies turning the room into a sauna.

After the photo shoot, Ichigo had been shaking uncontrollably as he'd fled to the changing tent, his heart nearly coming out of his chest in its enthusiasm. He certainly hadn't expected Grimmjow to respond to his touch that way. When Ichigo had touched his chest, eyes helplessly glued to the firm pectorals and mountainous abdomen of the man he secretly eye-raped on a daily basis, Grimmjow's eyes had turned a gooey blue, like warm cupcake frosting.

Ichigo hadn't been able to believe it, but had been even more stunned when Grimmjow had run his large, calloused hand up his back. Fuck, that had nearly made Ichigo lose his mind right there in front of Yumi and all the other models and staff. Grimmjow was dangerously sexy...and the idiot had the nerve to know it, too. Ichigo had seen the disgustingly smug looks being shot his way after Yumi had stopped their collaborative shoot. It hadn't really been Ichigo's fault that he'd become a blithering idiot after the way Grimmjow had touched him and looked at him like he'd wanted nothing more than to lay Ichigo down and have his dastardly way with him.

And Ichigo had _wanted_ him to.

Ichigo fell onto the bed, his hand gripping the collar of Grimmjow's t-shirt as he brought the bigger man down on top of him. Grimmjow smelled like comfy clothes and some type of unique cologne that Ichigo couldn't even begin to describe, but it made his toes curl and his body arch involuntarily. He clawed at the man's chest like an angry cat, his blood roaring in his ears as he tried to make sense of the lust flushing his system like cranberry juice. His teeth immediately latched onto Grimmjow's strongly corded neck as he bit down, then soothed the bite with an apologetic lick. Grimmjow grunted, his head turning to find Ichigo's lips, the blue-haired man's own lips firm and demanding.

Ichigo wrapped his arms around Grimmjow's neck and chuckled into the kiss. He was high as a kite, drunk off of lust, and plenty giddy. He felt like a kid sitting under the Christmas tree on Christmas Eve, waiting to catch Santa Claus in the act.

Grimmjow pulled back and stared at him with those unforgivably blue eyes. "What's funny?"

"I can't believe this is happening," Ichigo said without hesitation or fear. "You hated me in school, remember?"

"I never hated ya. I _liked_ ya; just didn't know how ta show it."

Ichigo frowned as he let that comment sink in. Before he could, Grimmjow was at his sensitive neck, using his tongue to make the room waver like Ichigo had opened his eyes under water. He moaned and banished his over-active mind from his head. He only had room for sensation right now. Grimmjow's hands were absolutely everywhere and his voice was driving Ichigo to distraction. There was no way one man's voice had to be that fucking deep...and raspy...and sexy.

Ichigo grinned as Grimmjow ran a thumb across his peaked nipple. This was awesome in so many ways, but he was too far gone to name all of them. He plowed a hand into Grimmjow's surprisingly soft hair and tightened it. Grimmjow's hand was going lower...lower...lower...shit, almost there. Why was the man moving so damned slowly? Just as that thought formed in his head, Grimmjow's hand was firmly wrapped around his still-clothed dick.

Wow.

Grimmjow's chuckle sounded like a rumble of distant thunder as he lifted his head and met Ichigo's gaze again. "Excited, are we?"

"Fuck off," Ichigo snapped. He reached a hand between their bodies and none too gently grabbed Grimmjow's pipe through his boxers. "I could ask you the same thing, asshole."

Grimmjow's grin faltered for a split second before it was back in full force, splitting his handsome face in half. "Dude," he said, kissing Ichigo's cheek. "I was born excited."

"Hn. That's kinda pervy, dontcha think?"

"No."

Ichigo shrugged and that was that. They went back to tongue wrestling and trying to see who could get who out of their clothes the fastest. Ichigo won, hands down. Grimmjow was shoved onto his back – and what a feat that had been – and left staring up at Ichigo as Ichigo straddled the bigger man's slim hips, his hands braced on that broad chest.

"Loser," Ichigo muttered with a smug smirk.

Grimmjow arched a fine blue brow and gave that shark grin of his as his entirely too big hands crept up to Ichigo's waist. "That so?"

"Yeah. So?"

Grimmjow pursed his lips in thought and before Ichigo could even think about blinking, he was again on his back, staring up into oceanic orbs. "Who's the loser now, punk?"

Ichigo grinned, amused. A playful Grimmjow was interesting and fun. He wanted to see more of that side, so he let his hand slowly trail upwards between Grimmjow's pectorals, never losing eye contact. Grimmjow's brow creased like he was confused, but Ichigo just continued his journey, mind already planning the outcome of his hand's final destination. His fingers curved and teased the hollow of Grimmjow's throat, then edged up to the man's prominent Adam's apple. Ichigo felt a small quiver against his belly and chuckled when he realized that Grimmjow had shuddered.

"Oooh? Is your neck sensitive, big guy?" Ichigo teased. Grimmjow gave him a blank stare, his lips pressed into a thin line as he refused to answer the question. Ichigo nodded. "That's fine. Ya know I have my ways of making you talk, right?"

This drew a smirk from the blue-haired man, but still he didn't say anything, so Ichigo resumed where he'd left off, his fingers ghosting towards Grimmjow's right ear. He let his touch become barely there as he tickled the fine hairs along the fire fighter's carotid. Ichigo smirked when he caught Grimmjow tucking his lips between his teeth, blue eyes steadily darkening. His body had gone rigid as he stared down at Ichigo, making Ichigo feel somewhat like a cornered mouse. He shook the feeling aside and unknowingly dug his own grave as he continued to tease the bigger, taller, more than likely stronger man above him.

Ichigo's fingers curled around the back of Grimmjow's neck, where he proceeded to lightly stroke the soft hair at the nape. Grimmjow's eyes slid shut for about three impossibly long seconds before they snapped open and a muscle twitched along his jaw. Ichigo grinned coquettishly and added a little more pressure to his massaging finger tips. He let them slide higher into the man's thick hair, where he rubbed the scalp and lost himself to the softness of those bright blue strands.

Grimmjow grunted, the noise hardly audible, but Ichigo caught it. He cracked a full-blown Grinch grin and toyed with the man's hair some more, not realizing the danger he was in until it was sitting on his chest. Out of nowhere, Grimmjow's hand was wrapped around Ichigo's wrist, his eyes blazing as he drilled a hole through Ichigo's head.

"Feels good," he murmured. Then he lowered his head and gave a sideways smirk, their noses touching. "My turn, right?"

Ichigo tried to pretend as if those words didn't clang ominously around in his brain as he curled his upper lip back and sneered. "I didn't say that."

"Who says I need yer permission?" Ichigo lay there stunned. He had no come-back. No witty retort. Nothing. His mental smart-ass was on empty. Shit. Grimmjow bared a grin that screamed he was up to no good before he carefully removed Ichigo's hand from his hair. "Hold onto that fer a minute. Might need it ta grab the sheets er somethin'."

Ichigo would admit that his toes actually curled in anticipation as those words left Grimmjow's much too attractive mouth. He opened his mouth to say something snarky, but was immediately put in his place when Grimmjow lay a finger over his lips.

"Be quiet fer a change, yeah?"

Ichigo frowned, but that was quickly flipped upside-down as Grimmjow's lips slid over his jaw and under his chin. His tongue was like lighter fluid, igniting brush fires all over Ichigo's body where it touched. The same for those big, calloused hands. It was so clear that Grimmjow was powerful, from the broad, strongly built shoulders, to that magnificent back, down to those thighs that made Ichigo drool. Every move Grimmjow made spoke of tightly controlled strength and natural grace.

Maybe that was why Ichigo had had a hard time keeping his eyes off the guy.

Grimmjow ran his tongue down the entire length of Ichigo's neck, the soft, wet muscle pausing at his collarbone. Ichigo's eyes had been shut tightly as he'd languished in the feel of Grimmjow's tongue running over his overly sensitive skin, but at Grimmjow's sudden lack of movement, his eyes flew open. He peered down his straight nose, only to have the hair on the back of his neck stand straight up when he saw Grimmjow staring right back at him, eyes twinkling mischievously.

Ichigo had his mouth open, ready to ask what the hold up was, but Grimmjow dipped low with the swiftness of a striking cobra, his lips latching onto Ichigo's right nipple. Ichigo bit his bottom lip and squirmed in place. It felt weird because Grimmjow was being a bit too enthusiastic.

"Oi, too hard, bastard," he grumbled.

Grimmjow released his abused nipple and smiled. "I know."

Ichigo frowned. "Wha-"

Grimmjow was back at his nipple, but this time, there was none of the previous sting and annoying pulling. The sensation built slowly, stirring Ichigo's groin like an overturned hornet's nest. One of Grimmjow's hands was braced against Ichigo's abdomen, the other creeping beneath the waistband of Ichigo's boxers and curving around to grip his bottom. Ichigo's brows bunched together, his heart rate climbing as Grimmjow switched nipples, a low throaty rumble vibrating his chest. If Ichigo didn't know any better, he would think Grimmjow was enjoying what was happening more than Ichigo did.

Grimmjow lowered Ichigo's boxers centimeter by centimeter, the slow rustling of fabric giving Ichigo heart burn as he anxiously awaited the man's next move. Finally, after what seemed like a million years of agony, his boxers were bunched around his knees and those wicked fingers of Grimmjow's were lightly tracing his straining and pleading erection. Ichigo arched shamelessly, sweat forming along his upper lip. He was getting too excited, but he had no way of slowing down his libido. Grimmjow seemed to grow tired of the teasing foreplay because he skipped the niceties and went straight for broke, his hand wrapping firmly around Ichigo's length.

Suddenly, loud trilling echoed in the silent room, scaring the shit out of Ichigo and making him nearly jump off the bed. Grimmjow, on the other hand, growled loudly, the noise making Ichigo arch his brows in shock. Blue eyes were hard and angry as Grimmjow rolled to the edge of the bed and reached to the floor for his shorts.

"If this ain' important, yer ass is grass," he mumbled darkly before answering his ringing phone. "Yo!" he snapped.

A beat of silence passed before Ichigo realized that something was terribly wrong. Grimmjow surged to his feet, his mouth open and eyes wide with fear: something Ichigo thought he would never see in the other man's expression.

"Y-Yo-chi?" he gasped.

Ichigo frowned. Who the hell was Yo-chi?

"Wha's wrong? Where's yer mom?" Grimmjow continued, his voice deepening with his obvious concern. "Hey, stop cryin'. Put yer mom on."

Ichigo sat up on the bed and stared at the nearly naked man pacing the floor in the middle of the room. Grimmjow was running his hand through his wild hair, disrupting it even more, his blue eyes wide, confused and panic-stricken, although it was clear he was trying to tame that last one.

"Yoichi. Put yer mother on the phone," Grimmjow said firmly.

That deep voice sent chills racing down Ichigo's spine, but this time not because of lust. He didn't know what was going on, but he felt dread sneaking up on him. He had a lot of questions he wanted to ask too, but thought now wasn't the time for that. Grimmjow seemed distressed and besides, Ichigo didn't want to seem all needy.

"Whattaya mean ya can't put her on the phone? Where's yer mother?"

Silence. Ichigo couldn't hear the voice on the other end of the phone, even though the room had gone deathly silent. That was when Grimmjow exploded.

"WHAT? SHIT! DON' MOVE, YOICHI!"

Ichigo's eyes were the size of basketballs as he watched Grimmjow end the call and rush to his clothes on the floor. His face was tight with terror, mouth balled up and turned down in the corners as he stepped into his shorts. Ichigo was afraid to ask what was going on just from the look of Grimmjow. He'd never seen the bold, most times crass and annoying fire fighter look that way and, truthfully, it scared him.

Deciding he would never know unless he tried, Ichigo cleared his throat timidly, his fingers twisting the edge of his sheet. "Gr-Grimmjow, what happened?"

Grimmjow froze for half a second before resuming his breakneck pace. "I got somethin' ta do. Fam'ly emergency."

Family?

"O-oh. Um-"

"I'll call ya," Grimmjow grunted before sticking his phone in the pocket of his shorts and running to the door.

He slipped around it without another word, leaving Ichigo breathless. What the hell had just happened?

XOXOXO

Grimmjow couldn't breathe. His chest was too tight and his heart was beating too fast. _Please no, not again_ , he thought desperately as he flew through the streets, dodging cars and dipping in and out of traffic like a police cruiser. _Please_.

Things had been normal, amazing even since he'd finally gotten his hands on Ichigo. He'd been right in the process of making the smaller man scream in a ridiculous falsetto, when his cell phone had gone off in his shorts, upsetting the moment. Grimmjow knew never to ignore his phone or pager, in case of emergency, so he'd answered it, hoping it'd just been Renji or Shiro wanting to go out or something so he could nicely tell them to kick rocks and call him when they got done. Instead he'd been shocked almost speechless to hear Yoichi, his godson, on the other end, crying uncontrollably and refusing to put his mother on the phone so Grimmjow could figure out what the fuck was going on all of a sudden.

When he'd told Yoichi to put his mom on, he'd claimed he couldn't. Grimmjow hadn't understood, until the next few times he'd asked the young boy. Yoichi had stuttered and sobbed that he couldn't put his mom on the phone because she was asleep in the tub and didn't want to wake up. Grimmjow got it all too clearly then.

He knew he was panicking, but he hoped he was wrong. He hoped that everything running through his mind at the moment was completely off base and that he was just being ridiculous. The hammering of his heart told him otherwise, though. Grimmjow cut the wheel and skidded onto Nel's block, turning the corner on two tires. He couldn't get to the house fast enough it felt like. He avoided parked cars and finally pulled to an abrupt stop in front of the house his best friend had started his family in.

Grimmjow hopped out of his car, the engine still running as he sprinted to the front door. It was locked, of course, but luckily, Gin had given him a key before he'd passed away. Grimmjow fumbled with the lock a few times, his hands shaking badly and making him curse like a sailor. Frustrated, he started to put his foot to the door and break it down, but the key slid into the lock on the last try. He turned it and stumbled inside in his haste to find his godson. He stopped in the deserted sitting room, his ears and eyes alert for any signs of movement. After a few seconds, he heard crying coming from the second level of the house and it spurred him into action.

Grimmjow took the stairs three at a time, his heart tripping wildly as he rushed into Yoichi's bedroom. He looked around, but didn't see the little silver-haired boy anywhere. He listened again and realized that the crying he'd heard had been coming from the bathroom. He felt nauseous. Bile and fear were creeping up the back of his throat as he edged his way to the bathroom, the wooden door cracked open. Terror seized him and made him drag his feet. He could hear Yoichi crying clearly now. The little boy's sobs were erratic and heartbreaking and Grimmjow was afraid of what he would find when he stepped inside the small room.

But he did.

And immediately froze, horror gripping him from the inside out and staying his steps. He couldn't move. He'd been paralyzed by the sight that greeted him after he pushed the door open completely. Yoichi sat with his back to the side of the large, white jacuzzi styled tub, his knees drawn up to his chest and face buried in his arms.

Nel. Nel was...

Shit.

Grimmjow finally found the strength to move and went beside his godson, instantly scooping the little boy into his arms so he could get him away from that sight. Yoichi clung to his neck, his sobs louder and more gut-wrenching. Grimmjow clenched his jaw, tempted to cry himself. He hated that Yoichi had been exposed to something as horrific as what lay in the bathroom. He carried the boy down the stairs and sat down hard on the couch in the sitting room. He cradled Yoichi close, his body automatically rocking back and forth in an effort to soothe his godson. He knew that no amount of rocking, no amount of reassuring words would do any good, though. That image would probably haunt the small boy for the rest of his life and it saddened Grimmjow. Then it pissed him off.

He couldn't believe Nel had been so irresponsible. So careless. Selfish above all. Didn't she give a shit that she had a small kid that needed her and depended on her to raise him into an adult? Grimmjow understood that she'd been depressed, hell, Gin's death had devastated him as well. That didn't mean it was OK to just give up. Throwing in the towel with a kid in the equation was unforgivable. Grimmjow's eyes squeezed shut as he tried fruitlessly to block out the bright crimson stains decorating the floor beside the tub. The red that filled the tub. Nel's pale face and wet, sea-green hair.

No child deserved to see something like that...ever.

Grimmjow reached around a shaking Yoichi in his lap and withdrew his cell from his pocket. His hands still shook terribly, but he managed to call the police so he could report what he'd seen. When things decided to go bad, damn did they.

XOXOXO

**Two Weeks Later**

Ichigo sat in his living room, vegging out in front of the TV, his hand in his shorts. He yawned before taking another sip from his bottle of beer. He was bored, but more than that, he was pissed. He hadn't heard from Grimmjow since the day the man had left Ichigo's apartment like it'd been on fire. Ichigo sucked his teeth and made himself even more comfortable against the couch cushions. Had he done something to make the man just stop talking to him? Ichigo hadn't even seen the man on his way home from work the past couple weeks. It was strange.

He knew that Grimmjow had said he'd had a family emergency, but to completely stop talking to him? It made him feel a bit slighted. He hadn't done anything that he could recall to make Grimmjow stop talking to him. Not to mention, they had been interrupted right in the middle of what was sure to be the best sex Ichigo had ever had in his life. Well, that's how it had felt at the time anyway. Now he wasn't so sure.

Ichigo kicked his feet up onto his coffee table and changed the channel. A pointless game show was playing, so he continued surfing, trying fruitlessly to find something interesting. It didn't seem to be working. He grabbed his phone and opened up the Angry Birds application. He was determined to rid himself of the boredom that sat heavily on his shoulders. Ichigo spent ten minutes flinging scowling birds at grinning, green pigs before he gave up and closed the application. He was about to climb to his feet so he could shower and call it a night when his phone starting ringing persistently. He glanced at the readout and sat up in shock before answering.

"Yo!" he snapped.

There was a pause and a sigh. "Hey, Ichigo."

"Where the fu-" Ichigo started, ready to chew a hole in Grimmjow's hide, until he heard the resigned tone in the man's deep voice. "What's wrong?"

"Can I come over?"

Ichigo's eyes went wide as he gave his living room a critical once-over. "Y-yeah, OK."

"Be there in ten."

"Alright."

Ichigo ended the call wondering what the hell had Grimmjow sounding like he had been diagnosed with a terminal illness. _Well_ , he thought as he leaned back against the cushions again. _Guess I'll find out soon enough_.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach...

Onwards...

XOXOXO

The living room carpet should have been worn beyond repair with the way Ichigo made tracks across it. He paced the comfortable space, hand running through his hair with nervous anticipation. Grimmjow had called out of the blue after leaving a gaping silence for two weeks, and now he wanted to just drop by like nothing had ever happened. Really? Ichigo was happy, he really was, but he was also apprehensive. What if Grimmjow was coming by only to tell him that he didn't have time for him, didn't want to see him anymore? What would he do then? He hated to sound like a chick, but he'd been attracted to the blue-haired fire fighter for a long time and it would seriously suck to have to end things before they even really got started.

Ichigo closed his eyes and forced himself to calm down. After that, he took a seat on the arm of the couch and grabbed the TV remote, flipping it on to find a show or movie to distract himself with. As soon as he focused on the screaming, bleeding woman on the screen, the tinny apartment bell sounded. He glared at the door for a brief moment, then slowly stood and made his way over. Yeah, he was still nervous. It'd taken some heavy meditation just to get used to the fact that Grimmjow returned his attraction, so the prospect of seeing the man again after almost having sex with him gave Ichigo an annoying case of butterflies. He rubbed sweaty palms together before grabbing the knob and pulling the door open. An empty hallway greeted him, making him lean past the door frame. Was he losing his mind? He was sure he'd heard the bell. He shook his head and started to close the door when he happened to glance down.

What the hell was this?

"Hi," he greeted the small, silver-haired boy standing near his shins. "Um...are you lost or something?"

The little boy shook his head and glanced around nervously, ice-blue eyes wide and disturbingly innocent. "I'm waiting for my uncle. He said to stay here, but I have to pee."

He was...adorable. It made Ichigo nervous. Why was this kid not only standing in front of his door, but ringing his bell at that? And then the anvil dropped and smashed him to the ground.

"Wait, who's your uncle?"

"Um, he's-"

"Hey, Yo-chi, what're ya doin'?" a familiar deep voice interrupted.

"Uncle Grimm, I have to peeee," the little boy whined, voice high and desperate.

Atmospheric blue eyes were uncertain as they darted back and forth between Ichigo and the little boy. Ichigo, however, was stuck staring at the blue-haired fire fighter like he was a fallen angel. Grimmjow had on a navy blue t-shirt with the fire department's logo over the left breast, navy tear away warm-up pants and black sneakers. He was dressed completely casually, but the shirt hugged the man's fantastic torso like a prostitute, and even though the pants were loose, they made Ichigo imagine the guy's fabulous ass and muscular legs. When he crashed back to Earth, he realized that Grimmjow was giving him a feral grin, blue eyes mischievous and more than aware of where his thoughts had gone.

"Hey, Ichigo. Ya think Yoichi can use yer bathroom?"

Ichigo shook his head, clearing it of the debris of lust before slowly nodding and stepping away from the door. "Yeah, sure."

He watched Grimmjow enter the apartment, leading the little silver-haired boy by the hand. He was confused. Sure, he didn't know much about the blue-haired man's personal life, but he certainly hadn't expected a nephew. Was that kid the family emergency Grimmjow had mentioned before sprinting away that night?

Ichigo followed them inside and shut the door. He didn't quite know what to say or do, so he decided to remain silent and wait for the fire fighter's cue. Grimmjow had disappeared down the short hall with the boy, Yoichi, but was now on his way back to the living room. A large hand plowed through a mess of bright blue hair as the man stood in the doorway. Finally, he met Ichigo's curious gaze and if Ichigo didn't know any better, he would swear the man looked honest to God nervous.

"So," Grimmjow started. "How ya been?"

Ichigo gave a healthy snort. "Well, you'd know if you'd called, now wouldn't you?"

"Look, Ichigo, I wanted ta call, but I was...kinda busy."

"I can see that _without_ my glasses, professor, thanks."

Grimmjow glared at him and normally the dangerous look would have made him nervous, but he figured he didn't have anything to worry about at this point.

"Grimmjow, I get it, but you pretty much left me hangin'. I didn't know what to think."

"Sorry. I...just...a lot of shit's happened, ya know?"

"No, actually, I don't. Maybe you'd like to enlighten me."

Ichigo crossed his arms and watched Grimmjow literally fidget like an antsy toddler. As he studied the blue-haired man, he sighed and took pity on him. There was obviously something big weighing the guy down and it wasn't very fair to pick on him. He guessed.

"Ichigo-"

"Uncle Grimm, I'm sleepy," Yoichi yawned from behind the blue-haired man. "I wanna go home."

"Oh, uh..." Grimmjow began, but Ichigo stepped in to save him.

"Hey, Yoichi?" The little boy turned those lamp-like eyes in his direction as he hugged Grimmjow's calves. "I got a bed in my room you can use if you want."

Crystal blue eyes slid up and locked with sea blue. Yoichi did seem a bit tuckered out – judging by the redness of his eyes – but also uncertain as to whether it was a good idea to accept the offer on the table.

"I just need ta talk ta my friend here, Yo-chi. You can crash if ya want. I won't get mad," Grimmjow rumbled, voice low and surprisingly soothing.

"Is it dark?" the boy whispered.

"Well, the hall light's on," Ichigo said. "That OK?"

Yoichi shrugged, then turned back to Grimmjow. "You won't leave?"

The blue-haired man stooped down to the kid's level and pinned him with a stern stare. "I ain't goin' nowhere, Yo-chi. Ya don't gotta worry 'bout that."

Yoichi stepped forward and wrapped tiny arms around Grimmjow's neck. The fire fighter made the kid look so small and Ichigo had to wrestle back a grin at the endearing sight. Grimmjow slowly lifted his arms and enfolded the boy in them, sighing heavily as he buried his nose in the boy's soft-looking silver hair.

"C'mon. Let's get ya some sleep." Yoichi nodded, but refused to loosen his hold on Grimmjow's neck. Ichigo did grin when the blue-haired man shook his head in amusement and climbed to his full height, taking the boy with him.

"It's down the hall, to the right," Ichigo absently stated as Grimmjow turned in the direction of the bedroom.

The taller man glanced over a broad shoulder with a sly grin. "I remember."

Heat washed over Ichigo in titillating waves. Grimmjow's comment brought back lovely images. Lovely images, indeed. Images he wanted to recreate as soon as possible. Yeah, definitely. But first things first. He wanted to know what was going on with the fire fighter. For example: where did the kid come from? What made him a family emergency? There were tons of questions Ichigo wanted to ask; he just didn't know how to go about doing so tactfully. He'd never been friends with that word to begin with.

He eased over to the couch and lowered himself onto it, then ran an agitated hand over his face before letting it slide into his hair. What did Grimmjow plan to do now? Were they going to talk about where this disgustingly cute kid had come from? Ichigo didn't remember Grimmjow having any brothers or sisters, never mind a nephew. There was a serious lack of information going on, not to mention communication. Mind all over the place, he didn't even hear Grimmjow reenter the living room, quiet as a cat. The man sat beside him on the couch, so close his leg brushed Ichigo's and his smell made all other scent disappear. Ichigo glanced over at him and froze. Hooded royal blue eyes stared him down with entirely too much intensity.

Shifting uneasily, he licked his lips. "He OK?" he asked, trying to skirt around the way Grimmjow's eyes tracked the movement of his tongue.

"Yeah, he's good. Layin' down at least. But that ain't what ya really wanna ask, now is it?"

Ichigo gave a lop-sided grin and shrugged sheepishly. "Not really." Silence stretched on for a minute or two before he continued, carefully clearing his throat first. "So, what's with the kid? I mean, he's cute and all, but ain't leavin' him with you like givin' a baby an encyclopedia?"

Grimmjow barked a laugh, head tipped back and eyes closed. Once he sobered, he tried glaring, but failed miserably. "Yeah, yer right. I don' know what the hell I'm doin' wit' this kid, but I don' really got a choice, either."

"Why not?"

Grimmjow's eyes hardened to stone and made Ichigo's back involuntarily stiffen. Uh-oh. Seems like he'd stepped on a land mine. He started to try changing the subject, but the blue-haired man's deep voice cut him off.

"His parents're dead. I'm all he's got left."

"Oh. Damn, I'm sorry, Grimmjow. Was it your sister or brother?"

Confused blue eyes turned towards him. "I don' have siblings."

"Um, but, Yoichi-"

"Oh, yeah. He calls me uncle 'cuz me an' his dad were best friends before he passed. Gin...Gin told him..." Grimmjow's voice trailed off as his eyes lowered to the floor, unmistakably saddened.

Ichigo felt like shit. He'd never seen this side of the aggressive fire fighter and it threw him off balance. It made him flounder for some type of comforting words he could use to make that look on the man's face go away. It made him feel stupidly helpless.

"I keep sayin' this, but I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"It ain't yer fault."

The man's voice was quiet and rough. Fuck, man. What the hell. What was Ichigo supposed to do now? Here he had a depressed blue-haired fire fighter sitting almost in his lap, and he had no idea how to lighten the situation. He hated to sound like a callous, horny jerk, but...well...he _was_. He wanted to run his hands through Grimmjow's soft blue hair and kiss the man all over. He wanted to touch every hard plane on that marvelous body. Hell, he wanted to slide between the man's legs and... Wait. That just might work. It would most certainly serve as a much needed distraction for the blue-haired man and at the same time give Ichigo exactly what he wanted. He turned lecherous eyes on Grimmjow and studied him head to foot. Head down, legs together, hands clasped over his knees, Grimmjow was the picture of grief. Ichigo inwardly sucked his teeth and changed his mind about his plans. If he went through with them, he would feel like a pervert. Like an old man trying to slip a hand under a young girl's dress.

Damn.

He sat back against the couch cushions and closed his eyes. Yes, he felt bad for Grimmjow, who apparently had custody of a little boy and no idea where to go from there. Who'd apparently lost two people close to him. But dammit...no, he wouldn't even finish that thought. It was selfish and inconsiderate.

XOXOXO

After days of being questioned by the police, an overly emotional funeral, and legally accepting custody of Yoichi, Grimmjow was exhausted, mentally and physically. He hadn't had the time to contact Ichigo, although he'd wanted to. It just hadn't fit into his hectic schedule. He was still trying to figure out how he was going to manage taking care of a whole kid, on top of being a fire fighter. He'd have to find a babysitter, someone he trusted enough to look after his godson. Shit, that was stressful enough without adding Ichigo to the equation. Grimmjow had been sure the orange-haired man was pissed right but good with him for just disappearing and not contacting him for two weeks. Imagine his surprise when he'd shown up at the guy's house and Ichigo had taken everything in stride, like he encountered this kind of thing on a daily basis.

They'd been talking, or what could pass for it anyway. Ichigo had touched on the still very raw topic of Gin and Nel, and Grimmjow was having a hard time tucking away his anguish. A change of topic was sorely needed at the moment. He peeked over at the orange-haired man and frowned, empathetic. Ichigo was fit into the corner of the couch, deep in the cushions, head leaned back and brown eyes closed. This wasn't what Grimmjow'd meant to have happen. He'd meant to drop by and let the guy know that he was still _very_ interested, still wanted to get to know him _much_ better. He was just a little preoccupied with life.

Now he felt bad. He remembered the way he'd left and he was sure Ichigo had a nice case of blue balls. Hell, _he_ sure did. He'd been virgin-eager to get into the other man's pants and he'd been _so_ close, too. Maybe... He glanced over at Ichigo again and smirked. No reason they couldn't engage in a little hanky-panky on the couch. They didn't even have to go all the way just yet, especially not with Yoichi in the next room, but Grimmjow would be lying through his teeth if he said he didn't want to pick up where they'd left off that night. He edged closer to the orange-haired man and before Ichigo could open those fiery brown eyes, put a hand at the back of the man's neck and leaned in, covering those full lips with his own.

Ichigo jumped, eyes flying open to stare up at him in shock. Then, a corner of his mouth lifted into a barely there grin as he let his eyes slide shut again. Once Ichigo closed them, Grimmjow did the same, pressing forward a little more and fitting his body closer. The other man's mouth opened automatically, tongue snaking forward, where Grimmjow anxiously accepted it into his own. _There_ was that taste he'd sampled before. The orange-haired man moaned quietly and put a muscular arm around the fire fighter's waist, fingers clutching his t-shirt.

Now this was nice. Ichigo was like warm play-doh in his hands, malleable and pliant. Plus, he made some really great noises. Grimmjow lazily took over the kiss and tugged the younger man into his lap, sighing as he settled himself against the couch cushions. Ichigo straddled his hips, pulled back from the kiss and grinned.

"I like where this is goin'," he murmured.

"Mmhmm," Grimmjow agreed before quickly reclaiming those soft lips.

Ichigo's hand dug through the blue-haired man's hair, repositioning his head so he could take advantage of the kiss. It was like the smaller man was desperate, fingers twining and hips forming a mind of their own. Grimmjow didn't mind at all. In fact, you could say he encouraged it. He reached a hand between their bodies and traced deft fingers over the orange-haired man's clothed erection, smirking into their kiss when the guy grunted and sighed. And then, Ichigo shocked him with a sudden burst of aggression by grabbing the hand teasing his length and forcing it under the waistband of his warm-up shorts. There he pressed it against himself and groaned deeply.

"Much better," he mumbled before devouring Grimmjow's mouth again.

This was incredible. He knew Ichigo was feisty as all hell, but this was _more_ than he'd expected. Not saying that was a bad thing, though. Hell, it was wonderful. He returned the other man's enthusiasm by wrapping his fingers around Ichigo's shaft and stroking strongly.

"Ohhmm," Ichigo groaned again and buried his face in Grimmjow's neck, sharp teeth nipping gently. "Feels good."

"Yeah?"

"Fuck yeah...just..." the orange-haired man shifted his hips and reached for Grimmjow's other hand. "Lower these," he whispered urgently.

Grimmjow glanced down to see what he was talking about and smirked. Ichigo was tugging on the waist of his shorts, while at the same time trying to keep Grimmjow's hand inside them. It was actually kind of funny, but he was just as horny as the younger man, so he didn't mind the almost panicked behavior.

"Lift up," he murmured.

Ichigo raised himself to his knees, hot tongue darting out of his mouth and searing the side of Grimmjow's neck. Just that tempting action had his own hips searching for a bit of friction. This was getting annoying. He grudgingly dislodged his hand from the other man's shorts and after gripping that slim waist, flipped him back onto the couch, where Ichigo immediately made a fuss. Brown eyes fiery and pissed, he sat up on his elbows and scowled.

"What the fuck, Grimmjow? What're ya doin'?"

Grimmjow didn't say a word at first; he merely covered Ichigo's body with his own and put their noses together. "Why don't you just shut up and enjoy yourself?"

"Hey!" the orange-haired man started hotly, but his lips were sealed with a kiss.

As he ground Ichigo into the cushions, heat seemed to crawl up his spine and spread throughout his body, making his breathing erratic and his anxiety levels spike. He was good and randy now and couldn't _wait_ to get one off with the man underneath him. He went for the waistband of those flimsy shorts again and yanked them down to the man's knees, mouth almost watering at the sight of straining flesh, bobbing and twitching with need. Ichigo's scent hit him in the face like a pair of brass knuckles and that drove him over the edge. He dipped his head and sucked at Ichigo's collar bone, relishing the sounds the man created and the way those hips just wouldn't stop moving. He really wanted to get those lean legs around his waist and plunge like a knife, but knew it wasn't a good idea. However, no one ever said he couldn't get a tiny taste of what was sure to come. He lifted Ichigo's t-shirt until it was caught around the guy's upper chest, then spread his hand across one pectoral, index finger teasing the nipple into a hardened, tawny bud, and all the while keeping his lips firmly attached to that glorious tanned skin. Ichigo's breathing was becoming more and more frantic the closer Grimmjow went to his length and it excited him just as much as it did the younger man. He could listen to Ichigo sexually aroused all day and never get tired of it, as long as he was the cause of it.

"Grimmjow, please."

He knew exactly what Ichigo was begging for. His lips left the orange-haired man's neck and leisurely traveled down over his chest, tongue winding a wet trail through the middle of that sculpted abdomen. Ichigo was thinner than Grimmjow was, but it didn't make him any less muscular or toned. In fact, years of swimming and diving had done that body wonders. He finally reached his desired destination, teasing the fine apricot hairs surrounding Ichigo's rigid flesh that nudged his cheek. Musk, warm and sultry hit his nose and made his eyes roll shut for a brief moment before they reopened and peered up at the man soon to be his lover. Hooded brown eyes stared right back at him, impish grin curling full lips. Grimmjow twitched in his pants, heart flying into his mouth. God, Ichigo didn't seem to realize just how sexy he was.

Now a man on a mission, Grimmjow lowered his mouth to the head of Ichigo's member, tongue easing out and tracing the spongy slit. His fingers curved around the thick shaft as he lazily stroked the lower half and engulfed the upper. He and Ichigo both moaned at the same time, the orange-haired man's a little more wanton, however.

"Oh, God," Ichigo moaned, rough hand immediately running through Grimmjow's hair before gripping the blue strands. " _Finally_."

Grimmjow chuckled before increasing his pace. After that, he removed the hand around the smaller man's length and used it to hold those bucking hips in place. His lips slid lower until his nose brushed Ichigo's pubic hair, which in turn made the writhing man hiss and arch his back. That was enough to have Grimmjow groaning under his breath, heart racing and tongue licking swirling patterns around the other man's flesh, even as his head continued bobbing up and down. He didn't even try to be quiet about it; he was a perv and would be the first to admit how much he liked hearing the sounds of oral sex. Turned him the hell on.

Just as he was ready to stick a hand in his pants and get himself off, a noise from the other room made his head shoot up from Ichigo's lap. Blue eyes peered over the back of the couch as Grimmjow hoped and prayed that Yoichi was still asleep, and whatever sounds he'd heard had only been his imagination. After a few beats of silence, it was clear that Yoichi wasn't coming out of the room, but it was also clear that Grimmjow was too nervous to continue. What if his godson had walked in on him sucking the orange-haired man off? Disaster at its finest. He sat back on his heels and ran a hand through his hair, almost afraid to look at Ichigo. He was sure he would find brown eyes glaring at him, pissed beyond belief. However, when he did snag the courage to give the swimmer a sideways glance, he was surprised to find Ichigo raised to his elbows and wearing a puppy-dog expression.

"Ichigo-"

"Yeah, I know. I'm just mad we let this go as far as we did," Ichigo interrupted with a hefty sigh.

He sat up all the way, pulling his shorts back into place as he did so. The whole while, his eyes were downcast and severely disappointed. He looked so sad, it made Grimmjow want to cry in frustration. Why couldn't they catch a break? They just wanted to have sex! But no...life kept getting in the way of their fun time. The blood drained from his face as he had a revelation. Was this how his sex life would be from now on? Worrying about being caught by his godson with his pants down? He'd never get laid again if that was the case.

Holy shit...

But he was being pretty selfish. It wasn't Yoichi's fault that he needed him, wasn't like he'd had a choice in picking how he'd grow up. Grimmjow glanced down at his lap and grimaced. He was still hard as iron and pitching a tent at the front of his pants. Sighing, he put a hand over his active package and straightened himself out on the couch. Once he was comfortable – or as comfortable as he could get with an erection the size of a small island – he turned to Ichigo and almost grimaced again. The orange-haired man stared hungrily at his goods as if any second now and he would pounce and devour. Grimmjow kind of wished he would. Then again, there was the small problem of his godson in the other room. What the hell had he been thinking, getting them both revved and ready to launch like that? It was his own fault he was sporting such a persistent boner.

"This sucks so hard," Ichigo said, drawing Grimmjow from his thoughts and making him shoot a curious glance his way. "I mean, this has to be the _worst_ case of blue balls I've ever had. And that's an accomplishment since high school guys were such teases."

"Yeah, this is pretty bad," he agreed.

"Ha! And the understatement of the century award goes to..." Glinting brown eyes gave him a rueful glare before focusing on the cable box on the TV. "It's kinda late, Grimmjow. Ya wanna just crash here? I'll take the couch and you can sleep in there with the kid."

Grimmjow grinned and shook his head. "Tha's mighty generous of you, Ichigo," he muttered, leaning over towards the orange-haired man.

"No, it isn't. I've got kid sisters and I remember how taboo it was to have them out late when they were little. I'm just sayin'-"

The blue-haired man no longer registered Ichigo's voice; he was too busy letting the grinding gears in his head distract him. They were telling him that the lithe swimmer knew an awful lot more about kids than he did. They were telling him that _probably_ it was a good idea to make Ichigo an offer he couldn't refuse. What that offer was yet, he didn't know, but he'd sure figure it out. For the moment, however, he _had_ to get this tension out of the way, even if it meant a one-way ticket straight to the land of fire and brimstone.

"I get what yer sayin' and I think I _will_ take you up on that offer. On one condition."

Ichigo smirked as if he had an idea where Grimmjow was going with this and liked the direction. "What's that?"

"Gimme a tour of yer bathroom."

Silence. Grimmjow wanted to laugh out loud at the confusion written all over Ichigo's face, but managed to keep it together. He had a master plan and it would work, as long as the orange-haired man wasn't a screamer.

"Uh, Grimmjow, you do realize that since my apartment ain't all that big, neither is the bathroom, right?"

"So?"

Quirking a suspicious eyebrow, Ichigo climbed to his feet and swept an arm in the general area of the bathroom. "After you, sir."

Grimmjow took his time standing and straightening his clothes before finally moving towards the hall. Ichigo dragged his feet behind him, making another grin curl his lips. As they passed the bedroom, he peered inside, careful to be as quiet as possible. Yoichi was fast asleep under a mountain of blue comforter, the air conditioner humming peacefully in the background. Grimmjow almost jumped for joy and clicked his heels in glee. That was just perfect. He was sure his smile showed all his teeth and could get no bigger as they moved on. After stopping in front of the cracked bathroom door, Ichigo huffed and reached around him to flick on the light, obviously growing impatient with his little game. That was cool. He'd be singing Grimmjow's praises in a few.

Grimmjow stepped into the small space, took in the pristine white walls and off-white tiled floor, the beige marble-top sink, the fairly big tub and bright pink shower curtain... There he frowned and turned to look at Ichigo with an arched blue brow.

"Uh, feelin' a little feminine that day, Ichigo?"

"Fuck you. It was the cheapest one they had, not to mention the only color."

"Ah...I see."

"Look, are you done inspecting my shit? I mean, really-"

Grimmjow smirked and quietly closed the door before locking it and turning back to the confused orange-haired man. He stuffed his hands into his pants pockets as he strolled forward and loomed over the shorter man.

"You a screamer, Ichigo?" he asked softly. Brown eyes went incredibly wide as Ichigo stared at him like he'd lost his mind and started foaming at the mouth. But...he didn't answer the question. "Well...are you?"

"Uh, n-no...not that I know of," he floundered.

Grimmjow grinned. "Tha's good. Wanna know why?"

"That'd be nice," Ichigo breathed, backing himself against the sink.

Edging even closer, Grimmjow braced his arms on either side of the other man. They were nose to nose when he lowered his voice and murmured, "'Cuz I'm gonna fuck you in this bathroom come hell or high water, and I'm gonna need ya ta keep it down."

Ichigo's tempting mouth opened and closed a few times before he finally pulled it together long enough to form a coherent sentence. "W-what about your godson?"

"He's asleep. Now strip."

"S-so we're really gonna do this?"

Grimmjow nodded and backed away a few steps, grin stretching wider. Ichigo's eyes lit up like a torch as he too grinned big enough to fool Santa into thinking he was nice and not naughty as Grimmjow knew he was.

"Oh my God, I fuckin' love you," Ichigo blurted as he snatched his t-shirt up and over his head.

It hit the floor maybe three seconds before his shorts followed them. And there the man stood, naked as the day he was born, sleek muscle displayed in abundance. Grimmjow licked his lips and removed his own shirt, the corner of his mouth lifting in a sideways smirk as Ichigo sucked in an excited breath.

He moved in as his hands went for the waistband of his pants. "No, Ichigo, but after tonight, ya definitely will."


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach...

Onwards...

XOXOXO

Ichigo grinned so big, he couldn't stand it as he watched the tall, blue-haired fire fighter divest himself of his pants, then prowl towards him. He was naked and leaning against the sink, dick hard as knuckles. Holy shit, this was actually about to go down. He took a brief moment to consider what Grimmjow had asked him beforehand, wondering if that was the guy's way of letting him know what the very near future held. However, he was quickly distracted as a firm, hot body pressed against him, and warm, demanding lips settled over his pulse. Yep, that was enough to have his blood rushing like hurricane winds and his heart thrashing around with excitement. His arms immediately came up and wrapped around the taller man's neck as he enjoyed every little touch, every little lick and nip from that sinful mouth.

Aggressiveness seeped from Grimmjow's pores as Ichigo was lifted onto the sink. After that, the other man lifted his head and leaned forward, connecting their lips. Tongues were intermingled and skin flushed as the temperature rose and their breathing grew more frantic. Ichigo tried to run his hands over every bit of Grimmjow's soft skin and hard muscles, tried to pull him closer until neither could distinguish where one began and the other ended. This was what he'd been waiting for since that fucking NOH8 photo shoot. Since he realized the fire fighter felt the exact same way he did: almost insane with lust and lecherous thoughts. He tilted his head back when Grimmjow's lips once again marked a molten path down the side of his neck. It was unreal how much he was enjoying himself. He wanted to shout at the ceiling and order the man to just get on with it, but he had to think about Yoichi. The kid was asleep in his bedroom, innocently unaware of what was going on only a few meters away. And Ichigo sincerely hoped it stayed that way.

He leaned back against the mounted medicine cabinet as Grimmjow's lips made their way down his abdomen for the second time that night. Not that he was tired of it; shit, he didn't think that would happen in a million years. His dick twitched as the fire fighter wrapped strong fingers around it, the man's nose teasing his pelvic bone before lowering to his right inner thigh. It trembled some, but Ichigo managed to keep the quaking under control. He was just eager to feel the man's mouth on him again. Turned out, he didn't have to wait very long because that hot set of lips were enticingly placed over his pulsing flesh.

"Fuck, yes," he hissed, hand shooting forward and burrowing into rebellious blue hair.

This time around, Grimmjow seemed a lot more serious and a lot less playful. His enamoring eyes were closed, but his expression clearly read "determined to make you cum." And Ichigo sure as hell wasn't about to stop the guy. If that's what he wanted, then, hell, he was game. More fun for him. His inner cynic suddenly went deafeningly quiet as heat pooled in his gut before washing over him in overwhelming waves.

"Oh, man," he sighed.

His head tipped back and legs spread further apart as he thoroughly enjoyed the way Grimmjow sucked and stroked his length. It was liquid gold. His toes were curled, the joints cracking from the intensity. His abdomen tensed and released as he tried remembering how to breathe. It wasn't working out that way, but he was doing his very best. His mind had shut down, making it completely difficult to think past the wet heat between his legs and sliding up and down the favorite part of his body. And to think it was _Grimmjow_ down there. Ichigo's body twitched at the mere thought. He was anxious to have the blue-haired man doing much more than what was going on at the moment, but Ichigo didn't necessarily want to rush him through anything, either.

Luckily, Grimmjow lifted his head and locked eyes with him. The blue-haired man pulled away from the damp shaft in front of him and – face serious as a heart attack – asked, "Can we do foreplay later?"

It was like the fire fighter had read Ichigo's lecherous thoughts. Ichigo nodded and welcomed the taller man into his arms after Grimmjow stood and immediately connected their lips. At least they were of a like mind during a time so crucial. Neither of them wanted to waste precious minutes that could be used doing much more fun things. Ichigo put a hand between their bodies as Grimmjow kissed him. As he used his tongue to explore the other man's mouth, he used his hand to explore the interesting piece of flesh located below Grimmjow's slim waist. It was thick and hard and begging for attention. Ichigo grinned when Grimmjow gave a deep grunt. Then, he upped the pace of his stroking and quietly moaned when Grimmjow backed out of the kiss to hiss and lower his mouth to Ichigo's neck.

"Ichigo," the man called, voice thick with desire.

"Hn?"

"Turn around."

Ichigo's heart rate literally soared. He'd been waiting to hear something like that from Grimmjow since...well, since _forever_ really, but definitely since the living room. No, better yet, since the first time they'd gotten hot and heavy with one another. Ichigo gladly obliged the other man and slid off the sink before turning around to face the mirror. He took a glance at the glass and grinned at the blue eyes staring back at him. This idea just kept getting better and better. Grimmjow put both hands on Ichigo's hips and mumbled something that Ichigo missed because he was too busy opening the medicine cabinet. He rooted around the cleaning clutter and found the small bottle of lubricant he'd stashed there months ago in hopes that he'd get lucky one day or another. That day had finally arrived.

He shut the cabinet and held the bottle over his shoulder, but was momentarily distracted by the lips all over his upper back and the hot skin rubbing against him from behind. He closed his eyes and took a minute to savor the sensation of Grimmjow's hands leaving his hips and sliding up over his abdomen and chest. One of those hands teased Ichigo's left nipple, while the other crept up to his neck and cupped the front of it. Grimmjow's hips started rotating and grinding against Ichigo's rear, and it almost set Ichigo on fire. They were wasting time.

"We can do the foreplay thing later, remember?" he reminded the blue-haired fire fighter.

Grimmjow chuckled, the vibrations making Ichigo shudder. "You're right."

He took the lube from Ichigo's hand, and time seemed to suspend in midair as Ichigo waited for the inevitable. He listened to the cap pop open, and then another space of quiet followed. Finally, Grimmjow took one of Ichigo's cheeks in hand and separated it from the other.

"Bend over some more," he grunted.

Ichigo did so with a huge smile. He felt like it was his birthday, and he'd just received an oversized chocolate cake. He spread his legs and arched over the cool porcelain sink, heart racing with anticipation. Ichigo stared into the mirror again and watched as Grimmjow concentrated on his rear, blue eyes serious and determined. A cold slickness probed Ichigo's opening, and he tensed for a brief second before relaxing against the blunt finger sliding inside him. He gave a short moan and arched again.

"Fuckin' finally," he breathed.

"Mm," Grimmjow agreed.

The fire fighter's finger was quick, but efficient, rubbing along Ichigo's inner walls with a scary precision. It didn't take more than a few passes to get Ichigo loose enough to accept another digit. Grimmjow groaned softly when Ichigo hissed and pressed back into the man's hand.

"Please...just...mmm..." Ichigo's voice trailed off as he gripped the sides of the sink, desperate for more friction. Deeper penetration.

"Tell me," Grimmjow rumbled as he inserted another finger. "Tell me what you want."

"Oh, my God," Ichigo gasped. Grimmjow had just rubbed over his prostate, stimulating the hell out of it. "I-I want...I want you right now. _Please_."

"Want me how?"

With that, Grimmjow's fingers sped up and went just a tad bit deeper, as if the man were teasing him with the promise of more to come. Ichigo was almost delirious with want, so he snapped.

" _Dammit_ , man! If you don't shut up and fuck me right now, I'll break your head open!"

"Heh," Grimmjow chortled. "I love when you get all bossy an' shit. S'hot."

"Mm, whatever. You're still _talking_."

The fingers suddenly disappeared, and Ichigo had a hot, six foot two male pressing a ridiculously impressive length inside him. There were many words Ichigo could use to describe what he was currently feeling, but none of them would do it justice.

"Fucking _finally_ ," he stressed, arching his back and spreading his legs more. He had an inhuman grip on the sink as he met Grimmjow's initial thrust forward with an enthusiastic push backwards. It was fucking beautiful. "Shit, that's good."

" _Damn_ , Ichigo," Grimmjow groaned deeply, hands going back to Ichigo's hips and grasping tightly.

Ichigo lifted his arm and reached behind him, wrapping it around Grimmjow's neck as the fire fighter buried his face in Ichigo's hair. They slowly began moving together, Ichigo rolling his hips and pushing back against Grimmjow's languid, yet firm and thoroughly filling thrusts. The temperature in the bathroom went up by several degrees as their breathing grew heavy. However, soon the slow pace just wasn't enough for Ichigo. He wanted _more_. Faster, harder. He started moving against the other man more urgently, indicating his obvious need, and Grimmjow's body seemingly agreed as his hips started moving faster too. Ichigo's breathing quickly morphed into harsh panting as Grimmjow rubbed every part of his insides. Ichigo was gripping the sink with his free hand and moaning, the wanton sounds escalating and starting to echo off the bathroom walls. However, Grimmjow's hand came up and covered Ichigo's mouth.

"You're gettin' loud," he rumbled into Ichigo's ear.

It was like throwing kerosene onto a bonfire. Hearing Grimmjow's deep voice filled with lust from so close was arousing as hell. Ichigo opened his eyes and glanced in the mirror again. The image somehow managed to turn him on even more. His torso was stretched like the body of a lazing cat, chest heaving, arm up and around Grimmjow's neck, and body jerking with each of Grimmjow's thrusts. The blue-haired man had his face next to Ichigo's head, but his luminous, tropical-colored eyes were watching Ichigo right back in the mirror. Ichigo closed his eyes, tilted his head back and moaned again, this time the sound muffled considerably. It felt so damned _good_. How could he _not_ get loud?

And then the bathroom doorknob rattled ominously.

They both froze like someone had pressed the pause button on their steamy scene. As if in sync, they both turned and looked at the door.

 _Please, no_.

A soft whine came from the other side, and Ichigo felt like screaming. Hell, he was already dying on the inside. Grimmjow dropped the hand over Ichigo's mouth and blew out a deep breath.

"Fuck," he hissed.

Ichigo just stood still as stone. He couldn't move. He didn't _want_ to move, either. This wasn't fucking happening.

"Uncle Grimm?" the voice whined again.

"This is a freaky dream, right?" Ichigo finally asked.

He felt Grimmjow shake his head, both their chests still heaving, both still hard as steel and still very unsatisfied. Ichigo normally had a soft spot for kids, but this... This was testing his patience to a degree he didn't even think was possible.

"Dammit, Yo-chi," Grimmjow cursed.

It finally sunk in for Ichigo that he was going to be left hanging yet _again_ , but this time it would be much worse. He turned away from the door and gave a low crying laugh.

"I wanna kill your godson right now, Grimm," he uttered.

At this rate, his balls would shrivel up and fall off.

"I'm sorry, Ichigo. This... I thought he was sleepin'."

Ichigo leaned his head back against Grimmjow's and closed his eyes. That was when Yoichi sniffled and called Grimmjow again.

"Uncle Grimm!"

Ichigo eased away from the taller man, deflating when that enticing piece of flesh slid from inside of him. Shit, he was a grown man, but he was very close to tears. _Very_ close.

Grimmjow turned away and reached for his clothes on the floor. The sight of the man bent over was just icing on the whole fucked up cake. Ichigo grumbled severely to himself as he slipped into his own clothes. He was so disappointed, he felt like throwing a king-sized tantrum.

By the time he was fully dressed, Grimmjow was standing by the door, glaring at it like it had personally wronged him.

"You might as well open it," Ichigo sighed and ran a hand through his hair as he lowered the toilet lid and sat down on it.

The fact that his bottom was beginning to throb was just a painful reminder of what they could have still been enjoying. He glared down at the floor tiles as Grimmjow opened the bathroom door and admitted the small, silver-haired boy. Ichigo knew he had to be understanding. Yoichi was a kid and didn't know any better. But Ichigo was _dying_. He was so horny, he felt like humping _anything_ at this point just to get off. And it added insult to injury to have started something so spectacular, only to have to stop right when it was getting great. But Yoichi didn't know that, either.

It sucked.

"Uncle Grimm, you said you wouldn't leave," the kid said.

Ichigo was so annoyed, the boy's voice was like nails on a blackboard. He shot off the toilet and quietly excused himself. He needed to go for a walk or something – _anything_ that might get his mind out of the gutter and his libido off cloud nine.

XOXOXO

Grimmjow watched Ichigo leave the bathroom, heart heavy and depressed. He didn't blame the orange-haired man at all. They'd been moving towards a destination sweeter than the pot at the end of a rainbow. ...Then, Yoichi had shown up. What piss-poor timing the kid had. Seriously. Grimmjow had had to forcibly remind himself that the little boy was just that: a little boy. Yoichi couldn't help that he was needy and vulnerable and had the timing of an insulting Jew joke at a bar mitzvah. He really couldn't help it.

Grimmjow's libido didn't want to hear it, though. It was rampaging inside him, throwing shit around and cursing up a storm. He didn't blame it, either. He'd been hip-deep in Ichigo's tightness and hadn't wanted to leave until they'd both erupted like volcanoes. Alas, no matter what they did, it just wasn't meant to be. And now he had to stand in front of his young godson with a tent in his warmup pants. How fucked up was that?

He stooped down in front of Yoichi in order to disguise his persistent erection, arms resting over it. He met watery ice-blue eyes and trained his face to be concerned. Not pissed.

"I toldja I wasn't gonna leave ya, Yo-chi. What's the problem?"

Yoichi sniffed and wiped his eyes. "I woke up and you weren't there. I thought you left."

"I'm right here. I ain't goin' anywhere."

"Mommy said that too and _she_ left."

Jesus Christ.

Grimmjow just stared at his godson. What the hell was he supposed to say to that? In a sense, the kid was right. Nel had taken the coward's way out and left behind her young son. Now, Grimmjow was supposed to raise him. _Alone_. No help, no experience – just ass on the line. It was nerve-wrecking enough without Yoichi throwing up road blocks and saying things Grimmjow couldn't respond to.

Fortunately, Yoichi didn't seem to need a response because he just stepped into Grimmjow's space and put his arms around his neck. Grimmjow held the boy at a slight distance, not because he was trying to a asshole, but because he really didn't want to feel like a pedophile. He was still highly aroused (just thinking about Ichigo had him ready to go again), and he didn't want to scar his godson for life. The kid was stressed out enough as it was.

Grimmjow rubbed the boy's back a couple of times before gently holding him away by the shoulders. "Do you think you can get some sleep now?"

Yoichi nodded, sniffed, and wiped his eyes. Well, even though that was good news, Grimmjow was beyond caring. He was positive Ichigo wouldn't want to try again after what had just occurred, and he didn't blame the man. Grimmjow was pretty put off as well, no matter how badly he wanted to sink his teeth into the nimble diver again. He lifted the small boy over his shoulder, embarrassed at the way his pants still sported a very visible issue. He studiously ignored it and made his way to Ichigo's bedroom. Damn, just thinking the man's name got him all hot and bothered, as well as made him feel pretty bad. Ichigo had looked so hot in that fucking mirror. Grimmjow hadn't wanted to stop until he'd had Ichigo trembling in his arms. He'd been close too.

 _Dammit, Yo-chi_.

Grimmjow lay Yoichi down beneath Ichigo's bedspread before pulling it up to the kid's small, pointed chin. "Ya gonna be OK?" he asked as Yoichi shifted around and made himself comfortable.

"Mmhm."

"Alright. Now, I ain't goin' anywhere, but if ya need me, I'll be right in the other room."

"OK, Uncle Grimm. G'night."

"Night, Yo-chi," Grimmjow said as he ran a hand through Yoichi's silver fringe.

He made his way back into the living room in search of Ichigo and was surprised to find the room empty. He went to the kitchen and stood in the doorway, stomach flipping and heart sinking. Ichigo was at the table, wearing a hoodie and sneakers with his basketball shorts and t-shirt as if he were about to leave. _Or_ had just returned. They stared at each other for a long few seconds that felt like forever before Ichigo cleared his throat and spoke.

"He sleep?" he asked, and Grimmjow couldn't ignore the sarcastic tone.

But again...he couldn't really blame him.

"Well, he's goin'."

"That so? Imagine that."

Grimmjow heaved a sigh and ran a hand through his hair. "Ichigo, I'm-"

"Sorry," Ichigo interrupted, brown eyes hard and glinting. "I know. You told me already."

"Look, it ain't like it's my fault. An' it ain't like I told the kid ta come knockin' at the door right when we were getting to the good shit," Grimmjow snapped, frustrated.

Ichigo was taking this whole situation out on him, and that wasn't very fair. They were both victims of an extreme circumstance. It couldn't be helped.

Ichigo did his own sighing and rubbed a hand over his face. "I know that too," he mumbled. "I just... Dammit, Grimmjow, I just wanna finish what we started, but I know we _can't_. It's _frustrating_."

Grimmjow trudged into the kitchen and took a seat across from the orange-haired man. "Ya think I don't know that? Ya think I ain't chompin' at the bit here, too? I wanna get back inside you so fuckin' bad, I can _taste_ it."

Ichigo's pupils dilated as he stared hard at Grimmjow. "Please don't say shit like that. I'll let you fuck me right here on this table. No offense, but your godson be damned. He'll be introduced to the joys of sex at a very tender age if you keep it up."

Grimmjow grinned. "You got a potty mouth, Ichigo."

"Yeah, well-"

"Nah, I _like_ it. It's sexy."

"Grimmjowwww," Ichigo groaned and lowered his head to the table, hands going to the back of his neck. "You're _killing_ me. My balls're gonna turn into prunes soon."

Grimmjow cracked up. But Ichigo was right. If they kept up the witty banter and teasing, sexually charged comments, there would be no stopping the fire that would spread this time around. Grimmjow didn't want to ruin Yoichi before he even hit puberty.

"Look, we gotta make a date. I'm gonna be goin' back ta work soon once I find someone ta take care of Yo-chi while I'm there. Maybe I can get the nanny or sitter or whatever ta watch him for a few hours while I spend some time with you. I can't just leave things like this for long. Feel like I'm gonna explode."

Ichigo nodded, head still down on the table. "I think that's a good idea. I feel like a fuckin' pervert the way I wanna just get off."

"You got hands, don't ya?" Grimmjow asked.

He was teasing, but he really wanted to see Ichigo's reaction.

"Of course, but you know it ain't the same. I want...I want _that_ again. That bathroom is never gonna look the same to me," Ichigo muttered wistfully.

Grimmjow chuckled again as he studied the top of Ichigo's orange head. His thoughts had gone back to the bathroom too, and it did nothing to calm his libido. All he could think about was Ichigo's soft skin, firm muscles, unique scent, tight insides, tempting moans that made Grimmjow just want to fuck harder, fuck faster.

"Jesus," he mumbled and rubbed a hand over his face.

Ichigo lifted his head from the table and locked eyes with Grimmjow, face creased into a smirk. "Oh yeah. Feel the pain."

"Fuck you," Grimmjow said with a soft chuckle.

"I _wish_. All jokes aside, though, Grimmjow. It was _really_ good. I mean, for the pitifully short time it lasted anyway."

"Yeah, it was." Grimmjow climbed from his seat and paced the kitchen floor a couple of times. "But this is gettin' us nowhere, except back where we started. Unless you wanna risk bein' interrupted again, I suggest ya stop talkin' like that, Ichigo."

"Oh, what? _You_ can talk about it, but _I_ can't? How's that fair?"

Grimmjow recognized the taunting tone and stopped pacing to glare over at Ichigo. When he saw the orange-haired man smiling at him, he stalked over and stood right in his space. He wanted to argue, but instead, all he could do was stare down into Ichigo's sable-brown eyes. That was when his control slipped a little. He reached forward, lifted Ichigo out of his seat and put a hand at the back of Ichigo's neck. Then, he connected their lips. Ichigo's lips were soft and pliant – welcoming to Grimmjow's demanding kiss. Grimmjow slipped his tongue past them and engaged the other man in a kiss that made them both end up panting. When they pulled apart, Grimmjow rested his forehead against Ichigo's and locked eyes with him.

"Don't tempt me, Ichigo. I'm already hangin' by a thread here," he growled.

Ichigo swallowed and nodded. "Y-you're right." His hand came up and gripped the back of Grimmjow's neck, startling the blue-haired man. "But _damn_ do I want you."

Grimmjow lowered his hand from the back of Ichigo's neck and gripped the shorter man's hips. "Ichigo-"

"Grimm, I know we can't do this right now. I'm just... I don't even know."

They were both horny and frustrated as hell, and it wasn't doing a damned thing to calm their frayed nerves. Grimmjow kissed Ichigo's temple and drew the man into a hug. It felt cheesy, but it was what he wanted to do. Ichigo relaxed against him and sighed, arms lowering and wrapping around Grimmjow's waist.

"If we're patient, I'm sure we'll catch a break," Grimmjow murmured.

Ichigo snorted. "Yeah, that's _if_ I don't die of sexual withdrawal first."

That was funny. Grimmjow outright laughed and held Ichigo tighter. "Yeah, that too, smartass."

This time, Ichigo chuckled and pulled back to look up at Grimmjow. "So, we'll be alright?"

"I think so."

"Alright. Let's watch a movie or somethin'. I'm too wired to sleep right now."

Grimmjow nodded and took Ichigo's hand as they casually made their way into the living room, where they settled on the couch. Ichigo grabbed two remotes and clicked on the TV and DVD player.

"I got a bunch of stuff on the bookshelf over there. I'm thinkin' somethin' nice and violent will get me outta the mood ta fuck your brains out."

Grimmjow took a deep breath and tried to ignore the way Ichigo's words affected his lower region. It wasn't really working, but he wouldn't show it. He went over to the bookshelf Ichigo had mentioned and looked through the movies that were lined up. After rifling through at least ten movies, he paused on one and stared at the back cover. It looked interesting, and he'd never seen it before; he just hoped Ichigo wouldn't make fun of him for missing the wave when the movie had been in the theaters. He turned towards the orange-haired man on the couch and held up the case.

"Wanna watch this?"

"What?"

Grimmjow inwardly cringed, even as he outwardly grinned mischievously. "You heard me."

Ichigo frowned. "You never saw Harry Potter and The Sorcerer's Stone?"

"No. So?"

"Wow. Where you been all this time? Under a rock?"

"My work hours are weird, so I don't really get ta go out that much," Grimmjow grumbled as he made his way to the TV stand and DVD player.

He stuck the movie in the machine and went back to the couch. When he plopped down onto it, he instantly threw an arm across Ichigo's shoulders.

"I guess this is our first real date," he continued.

Ichigo scoffed, but leaned against Grimmjow's side. "Don't be dumb."

It rolled right off Grimmjow. Ichigo was as see-through as wet gauze. How he thought he could fool _anyone_ with those tell-tale eyes was beyond Grimmjow. He slouched against the cushions and enjoyed the feel of the shorter man's warmth along his ribs and left hip. Even though they couldn't finish what they'd started in the bathroom right that second, it didn't mean it would never happen. Grimmjow was slowly starting to appreciate the wait. It would make the release that much sweeter when it finally happened.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach...

Onwards...

XOXOXO

"Uncle Grimm! Uncle Grimm! Uncle Griiiiiiimmm!"

Ichigo lifted his head from its comfortable resting place and looked around. Was he dreaming? He could've sworn he'd heard whispering. As his still drowsy eyes tried to adjust to the daylight filtering into the living room from the kitchen window, he licked his lips and stretched. And that was when he realized that he wasn't laying on just his couch. A firm, broad chest rose and fell beneath him, making him focus on the face of its owner. Grimmjow's mouth was open, and he was snoring. Not obnoxiously loud, but since Ichigo was only centimeters from the man's face, he was able to hear it perfectly fine. Grimmjow had his left arm secured around Ichigo's waist, and his hair was a right mess. But it was a nice mess. Since his hair gel had worn off, his bangs were covering his forehead, and the rest was just bed head gone great. Ichigo swore under his breath at the unfairness of it all.

And then, he remembered why he was awake in the first place. He turned to the left and grimaced as he locked eyes with wide, way too innocent ice-blue. Grimmjow's godson was standing over them, staring. Ichigo didn't know what to say, but he was pretty sure that a kid walking in on his guardian sleeping very intimately with someone he didn't know was high on that list of "bad shit for kids to see."

"Uh, g'mornin'," Ichigo croaked. He fumbled around in his mind for the kid's name and was grateful when the sleep cobwebs dispersed enough to allow him to do so. "Yoichi, right?"

The kid pouted and ignored him, those wide eyes turning to Grimmjow's still sleeping form. Ichigo could understand. Hell, Yoichi didn't know him, but he did know Grimmjow. However, the blue-haired man was still deeply lost in Snoozeville. From the looks of it, Grimmjow needed his rest, and Ichigo really didn't want to disrupt it. He sighed and sat up, wiping the cobwebs from his eyes and yawning luxuriously. Truthfully, he wasn't prepared to deal with a kid who clearly had abandonment issues, but what was he supposed to do? He climbed to his feet from the warm, comfortable nest of gorgeous blue-haired man and scratched his back as he gave Yoichi his undivided attention.

"Ya hungry?" he asked.

Yoichi eyed Grimmjow some more before turning his big, ice-blue eyes to Ichigo. He bit his bottom lip and nodded slowly, which Ichigo considered a huge step in the right direction. With a smile, he gestured for Yoichi to follow him to the kitchen. Luckily, he had practice in the area of cooking and looking after kids since he had two sisters who'd needed him when his old man had been working late hours in the clinic. They traipsed through the living room and once Ichigo entered the kitchen, he ambled over to the cabinets. He knew just what to make to try and draw Yoichi from his shell. He pulled down a box of pancake mix and waved it in the air.

"How 'bout some pancakes?"

Yoichi paused beside the kitchen table and glanced at the box in Ichigo's hand. Ichigo grinned. Though the little boy had yet to speak, his eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. Well, that was one thing down. Ichigo set the box on the table and shuffled over to the refrigerator, his hand going to his head. When he pulled it open, a bunch of nothingness glared back at him. He thinned his lips and turned to Yoichi with a blank look.

"I think a trip to the corner store is in order, buddy. Ya up for it?"

Fear flashed into Yoichi's eyes for about three seconds before he checked the kitchen doorway, then gave his attention back to Ichigo. "Can Uncle Grimm come?"

It was progress! At least Yoichi was speaking. However, how could he break the news to the boy that his uncle needed his rest, and Ichigo really didn't want to wake him? He sighed and ran a hand over his face. He had to do _something_. He carefully edged over to Yoichi and lowered himself into a squat in front of him.

"Hey," he started softly. "I know you're scared, and you wanna make sure your uncle sticks around, but I can promise you that nothin's gonna happen to you. And Grimm's not goin' anywhere, either. He loves you very much, and he's not going to leave you. You can stay here with him while I run to the store, but just to let you know, you're safe with me, too. I won't hurt you." Yoichi's eyes were wide, but a little of the fear had left them. Ichigo pressed on with a small smile. "And guess what? I've got two little sisters who used to be your age. We hung out all the time, and I cooked breakfast for them and took them to the store with me, too. Now, they're big girls, but nothing ever happened to them with me, and I can make sure it's the same with you. So...whattaya say, Yoichi? Wanna go?"

Ichigo held his breath as Yoichi's ice-blue eyes roamed his face. The kid was adorable, that was for sure. And it was pretty obvious that he was still traumatized by what had happened with his parents. Ichigo didn't blame him. He still had moments where he fell into depression and fits of guilt over his mother's death so many years ago.

"But...I'm not stuh'posed to talk to strangers," Yoichi whispered.

Ichigo chuckled. "That's very true. But! I'm a...uh... _friend_...of your uncle. My name's Ichigo, and I already know that you're Yoichi. So...now, I'm not even a stranger anymore," he ended with a secretive whisper.

Finally, Yoichi smiled, his big eyes slanting into happy little arcs. When they opened, he nodded enthusiastically. However, right after, the smile turned into a concerned frown. "But Uncle Grimm will be alone."

"Yeah, but he's a grown-up. He'll be alright. Plus, he's sleepin'. He won't even notice we're gone."

"Are you sure?"

"Yep. I'm positive." Thankfully, Grimmjow gave a loud snore from the living room, which made Ichigo chuckle. "You see? He's totally knocked out."

Yoichi snickered and leaned closer to Ichigo. "He sounds like a bear."

Ichigo outright laughed at that, tucking the insult away for later. He ruffled Yoichi's silver hair and nodded. "He sure does. So, ya comin' with? Maybe we can find something good to go with those pancakes."

"Strawberry sauce! My mommy-"

Yoichi abruptly stopped, a sad frown pulling at his brows. He pouted and looked down at the floor, eyes starting to glisten. Ichigo felt the boy's pain. Everything was still so fresh and new for him, and it had to be tough to deal with at such a young age. Ichigo knew it was when _his_ mom had passed.

"I know it's hard, and you're really sad. I was sad when my mom went to heaven, too. As a matter of fact, I was about your age."

Yoichi lifted his head, eyes wide. "Really?"

"Yeah. _But_...I had to be strong for my sisters and my dad."

"My daddy's in heaven, too."

Ichigo nodded. "Which is why you have to be even stronger than I was. Who's gonna take care of your Uncle Grimm, huh?"

Yoichi stared at him, considering the question before he slowly nodded. "I am. He's my best uncle ever."

 _So damned cute_ , Ichigo thought as he smiled. Grimmjow was a lucky guy, even if he didn't realize it yet.

"That's right. So, you have to be a big boy and be happy for him. Even though your parents are in heaven, they're still watching you. I bet they're proud of you for taking care of your uncle for them."

A smile blossomed on Yoichi's young face. "They can see me?"

"Oh, yeah. You didn't know that?" Yoichi shook his head, eyes wide. "That means you have to be extra good because they can see everything you do."

"But I can't see them."

"True. You'll always be able to feel them, though."

"Really?"

"Yup." Ichigo pointed to the little boy's chest. "Right here, in your heart. That's where I feel my mom."

Yoichi glanced down at the spot Ichigo pointed to before looking into his eyes again. "But I miss them."

"That's OK. I miss my mom, too. Just think about all the fun times you had with your parents, and remember how much they loved you. It makes it a little better."

Yoichi nodded thoughtfully. "OK."

Ichigo ruffled the kid's hair again before climbing to his feet. When he stood, he held out his hand. "Ready to go?"

Yoichi nodded and slowly took the offered hand. "Can we have orange juice, too?"

"We can get whatever you like."

Ichigo led the boy into the living room to the door, where they slipped into their shoes. He peeked at Grimmjow from the corner of his eye. The blue-haired man was sprawled on his back, right leg hanging off of the couch, right arm on his stomach and left arm behind his head. His mouth was wide open as he snored. Ichigo grinned and turned to Yoichi, who was staring at Grimmjow as well. When their eyes met, Yoichi giggled.

"Uncle Grimm looks funny."

"Haha! You're absolutely right."

Ichigo grabbed his keys from the table next to the door and they quietly left the apartment. Once they left the building, Yoichi's hand tightened around Ichigo's, his eyes wandering. It was early, so there weren't many people out and about, but the sun was shining pleasantly. Thankfully, the heat hadn't caught up to it yet. There was a nice breeze that swayed the leaves on the surrounding trees, and the air smelled like Spring instead of the sweltering Summer they were stuck in.

They made it to the corner store without incident. As they went inside, Ichigo grabbed a blue hand basket and cut a right towards the dairy section. He remembered how his kid sisters used to love helping out, grabbing the items from the shelves and placing them in the basket.

"Hey, Yoichi. Ya wanna grab that milk for me?" Yoichi turned glowing, glacier-blue eyes to him and nodded. "Cool. I need the one with the red label." Yoichi reached over and tugged on a gallon of milk, his small arms struggling with the weight. Ichigo chuckled. "How 'bout we get the smaller one next to that one?" The boy sighed with relief, immediately letting go of the gallon and reaching for the half gallon. He moved it from the shelf and into the basket with a little more ease. "Thanks, buddy. Think you can grab me a carton of eggs now?"

"OK!"

Yoichi skipped over to the eggs and amazingly lifted the lid of one of the cartons. He glanced at them for a few moments before closing the lid and moving the carton carefully into the basket.

"Great job! Hey, you've done this before, haven't you?" Ichigo asked.

Yoichi nodded with a smug smirk that reminded Ichigo too much of the kid's blue-haired uncle. "Yup. My mommy always said to check the eggs before you buy them. That way, you don't buy broked up ones."

Ichigo chuckled and nodded. "Your mommy was a very smart lady. Alright, let's go find some bacon. You eat bacon?"

Yoichi's eyes brightened like freshly polished shoes. "I _love_ bacon!"

"My kinda guy!"

Ichigo led the boy to the end of the dairy aisle where the bacon was located. He decided to watch Yoichi choose a pack of bacon instead of pointing out which one they needed. Yoichi marched right over to the best brand and lifted it into the air.

"This one?" he asked.

"That's perfect! You're really good at this, Yoichi. I might have to take you with me to the market all the time," Ichigo said with a wink.

"Yayyy! Can we have the strawberry sauce, too?"

"Of course. Before that, though, can you grab that box of butter right there?"

**XxxxxxxX**

Ichigo had to admit that he was enjoying Yoichi's company. They'd made it back to the apartment with their goodies, and now, Yoichi was helping Ichigo with breakfast. Grimmjow was still soundly asleep on the couch. Though, he _had_ turned onto his stomach by the time the two had returned.

"Ya got that batter mixed up good, yet, Yoichi?" Ichigo asked over his shoulder as he scrambled over half the carton of eggs.

"Almost! It's still chunky right here."

"Alright, well, lemme know when you're done. I'll clean the pan we need until it's ready."

Ichigo turned off the eggs, satisfied with the bright yellow hue and the fluffy, bouncy texture. He slid that pan towards the back of the stove and grabbed the pan he'd used to fry the bacon. As he washed it, he let his thoughts wander. He was still sexually frustrated, but hanging out with Grimmjow's little nephew had put a lid on his randiness. _Outwardly_ , anyhow. Inside, all he could think about was the blue-haired fire fighter's larger and more muscular body, the man's hands all over him, his mouth, his voice. Ichigo shuddered at the stove as he vividly recalled another part of Grimmjow's anatomy.

...Maybe that wasn't such a good idea. It wouldn't be cool if he sprouted a woody in front of Grimmjow's innocent nephew. Ichigo glanced over his shoulder again and smiled at the sight of Yoichi stirring pancake batter with much gusto, his tongue curling up over his top lip. There was pancake powder on the boy's cheek, forehead, t-shirt and arms, but he supposed Yoichi didn't care. Finally, the little boy looked up with a wide grin.

"All done, Ichigo!"

"Great! Can you bring it over?"

Ichigo rinsed the pan, dried it with a paper towel and greased the inside with a stick of butter. Yoichi hopped off his chair and bounced over with the bowl of batter. When Ichigo looked into the bowl, he tucked his lips between his teeth, hiding his amusement.

"Let's add a little water to this. You were right when you said it was chunky." Yoichi nodded and handed over the bowl. After Ichigo added water and blended the batter, he turned on the stove and heated the pan. "OK, buddy, I need you to take a few steps back. Fire's dangerous."

"Yeah, my mommy said it can really hurt you. And my daddy put out the fires with Uncle Grimm."

"That's right. You know what that's called?"

Yoichi paused and seemed to think it over before he asked, "Fire biters?"

Ichigo chuckled. "Close. It's fire _fighters_. They fight the fires to keep everyone safe."

"Like super heroes?" the youngster breathed in awe.

"Yup. Like super heroes."

"Cool!"

"Yeah, it is pretty cool," Ichigo agreed as he poured pancake batter into the pan.

"Are you a super hero, too, Ichigo?"

Ichigo set down the bowl on the counter and wiped his hands with a dish towel before facing Yoichi. He shook his head.

"Nah." He stooped to eye level with Yoichi and winked as he said, "I'm more like a fish."

"What?" Yoichi squeaked through a smile, but before Ichigo could respond, his attention was diverted to the sexy man standing in the kitchen doorway, scratching his stomach and yawning.

"Somethin' smells good," Grimmjow rumbled.

XOXOXO

Grimmjow slowly opened his eyes and looked around. Where the hell was he? Nothing seemed familiar. He sat up and rubbed a hand through his hair until it gradually dawned on him where he was. Ichigo's smell permeated the place, but where was the feisty, orange-haired man? Last Grimmjow remembered, Ichigo had been using him as a body pillow. And where was Yoichi? Normally, the kid was up at the crack of dawn, asking for breakfast. And then, Grimmjow smelled bacon. His stomach gurgled and growled as he climbed to his feet. He felt well-rested for a change, and it showed in how hungry he was. He followed his nose to the kitchen and paused in the doorway at what he saw. Ichigo and Yoichi were near the stove, talking amiably. Yoichi was even smiling.

 _Hot damn_.

He watched as Ichigo squatted in front of the boy and said something that made Yoichi laugh. Grimmjow gave a sideways smirk. It was oddly comforting seeing his godson interacting with the guy he had an interest in. It would make bringing the boy around Ichigo a lot easier.

He yawned and scratched his belly. His body wasn't sore or anything, even after sleeping on Ichigo's couch. "Somethin' smells good."

"Uncle Grimm!" Yoichi shouted as he barreled into Grimmjow. "You're finally up! You slept _so long_! And you sounded like a bear!"

Grimmjow blushed and glanced at Ichigo, who was on his feet and grinning. "Was I really snoring?"

He never snored.

"Oh, yeah," Ichigo said before turning back to the stove. "You were snorin' alright."

"Yeah!" Yoichi chirped. "Like 'rawwwrrrr'!"

Completely mortified, Grimmjow bent over and scooped the boy up and over his shoulder. Yoichi's head hung over his back as Grimmjow tickled him. "Oh, yeah? Ya makin' fun a'me, now?"

Yoichi was breathless with laughter as he shrieked and squirmed. "It's true! Y-you were!"

"Oh, really? Ya sure about that?" Grimmjow growled as he tickled harder and faster.

"OK, OK! I give up!"

He ended his assault and lowered Yoichi to the floor. "That's what I thought. How ya doin' this mornin'? Sleep good?"

Yoichi nodded, looking happier than Grimmjow had seen him since his parents had passed. "Ichigo's teaching me how to make pancakes!"

Grimmjow met Ichigo's brown eyes and grinned crookedly. "That's nice of him."

Ichigo's resulting blush as he turned back to the stove was entirely too cute. Grimmjow sauntered over to the orange-haired man as Yoichi announced that he had to pee and scampered from the room. He slipped an arm around Ichigo's waist and nuzzled the soft skin of his neck.

"Good morning, honey. Ya know, I can get used to you cookin' for me."

Ichigo's breathing grew fast and shallow as he tilted his head and met Grimmjow's heated gaze. "Shut up," he grumbled before connecting their lips.

Grimmjow grunted and pulled Ichigo back against his chest. He was already hard from just waking up, but feeling that lithe body pressed to his added fuel to the fire. One hand ran up and down Ichigo's abdomen as the other gripped his slim waist. Ichigo moaned as the kiss deepened, but after a few blissful moments, he pulled away.

"This is a bad idea," he murmured.

Grimmjow thought so, too, but also didn't care. He nudged Ichigo's bottom with his stiff manhood. "He doesn't agree with you."

Ichigo moaned again and closed his eyes. "Don't _do_ that. Shit, now I'm all hard. I was doing good this morning, too!" he scolded as he opened his eyes.

Grimmjow smirked. "Hey, I can't be the only one suffering."

"Jerk. Go brush your teeth. I have extra toothbrushes under the sink for you and Yoichi."

He chuckled at the look on Ichigo's face. The man was red as an apple, his scowl fierce. Before Grimmjow separated their bodies, he pressed another kiss to the back of Ichigo's neck. As he was walking away, he smacked the orange-haired man's butt and winked at the incredulous look he received in return.

"You'd make a really good housewife, Ichigo."

He howled with laughter and skipped out of the kitchen, dodging the plastic bowl that had been aimed at his head. Something warm spread throughout his body as he ambled towards the bathroom. He hadn't been lying when he'd made that statement. He could honest-to-goodness see himself coming home to Ichigo every night. Or at least whenever he wasn't working. It was a nice feeling.

"Uncle Grimm, you gotta pee, too?"

Grimmjow stopped in his tracks and looked down at his godson. Yoichi seemed so happy, and it made Grimmjow wonder just what Ichigo had said to the boy to create such a change from last night.

"Yeah, I do. Didja brush yer teeth, yet?"

"Nooo," Yoichi dragged, voice annoyed.

Grimmjow chuckled and ruffled his hair. "Well, gimme a sec ta use the bathroom, and then come in an' brush yer teeth."

He stepped past his godson and entered the bathroom, making a beeline for the toilet. Thankfully, his hard-on had calmed down enough for him not to paint Ichigo's wall with urine. He was in mid-flow, when the cracked open door swung wide. Yoichi still had a hand on the knob, but his eyes were huge and focused directly on Grimmjow's penis.

Grimmjow's face flushed as he stuttered, "U-uh..." his voice trailed off as he tried to think of something intelligent to say. He felt like his mom had caught him with his hand under a girl's skirt. "I-I didn't mean right away, Yo-chi," he mumbled.

"Why's yours so _big_ , Uncle Grimm?" Yoichi squawked. "Mine doesn't look like that!"

He was _so_ uncomfortable with this whole situation. What the hell was he supposed to say? Thank goodness he finished. He shook and tucked himself away before turning to his godson.

"It, uh...well, when you get bigger, yours'll probably do the same thing."

Yoichi arched a skeptical brow, but didn't say anything else. He entered the bathroom, and Grimmjow busied himself finding those toothbrushes Ichigo had told him about. Man, that was fucking awkward.

**XxxxxxX**

They were at the kitchen table, and Grimmjow was inhaling the food off of his plate. It was so _good_. He hadn't even come up for air yet. He happened to glance in Ichigo's direction and saw the orange-haired man watching him with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. Finally, he slowed down and wiped his mouth with a paper towel.

"What?" he grunted.

Ichigo seemed startled at being addressed. "W-well, I, uh...you seem pretty hungry there."

"Yeah, Uncle Grimm! Your food's almost gone, and I still have all my pancakes!" Yoichi added.

Grimmjow sighed. "What is this? Double team Grimmjow day?"

Ichigo chuckled and shook his head as he went back to his own food without giving a response. Yoichi, on the other hand, tilted his head to the side.

"Double team? What's that?"

Ichigo cackled this time as he looked up at Grimmjow. "Yeah, Uncle Grimm. What's that?"

 _That little_...

He cleared his throat. "It's, uh, you know...when two people gang up on one person. Sorta like wrestling. You know how they call it tag-team? Same deal."

"Ohhhhhh, I get it," Yoichi said before returning to his food.

Grimmjow locked eyes with Ichigo and mouthed, "You're gonna pay for that."

Ichigo chuckled again, but his eyes were warm and inviting. Grimmjow wanted to drag him across the table and kiss him. Along with some other stuff that would be equally disturbing for his godson to witness. He shook his head and went back to eating. He really needed to fuck his boyfriend, and ASAP. The sexual tension was killing him.

A sudden, loud beeping sounded from the living room, and Grimmjow filled with dread. He still had time off, but if the department was paging him, it had to be big. He sighed and climbed to his feet before stalking to the wall phone he'd spotted in the kitchen. He knew the number by heart, so he dialed and waited for someone to pick up. After two rings, a panicked female voice answered.

"What's goin' on?" he grunted.

"Oh, thank God! Grimmjow, there's a four alarm blaze in the eastern district. Chief says he needs all hands on deck. We're sorry to disturb you, but-"

"Nah, I understand. I'll be there in five."

He hung up the phone and stared at the wall. Who could he call to watch Yoichi for him? He couldn't just leave the kid. A hand on his shoulder made him jump. When he turned, he came face-to-face with syrup-brown eyes and creased orange brows.

"I'll look after Yoichi. You just go do what you gotta do."

Grimmjow frowned, still uncertain. Even though he felt like he could trust Ichigo, he really didn't want to impose. "You sure? I don't know how long I might be gone."

Ichigo waved away his protests and nodded. "They need you right now. I've got this. Besides, Yoichi's pretty good with me, so we'll be fine." Ichigo turned to the little boy watching them from the kitchen table with wide eyes. "Right, buddy?"

Yoichi looked like he wanted to say otherwise, but he slowly nodded. "It's OK, Uncle Grimm. I'll be alright."

Grimmjow didn't have time to consider other options, so he crossed the room in three long strides before stooping to Yoichi's level. He put a hand on the boy's head. "I'll be back as soon as everything's done, OK? I'm not leaving you."

Yoichi grinned. "I know! Ya gotta go be a super hero now."

Grimmjow frowned, confused, but still leaned forward and kissed the boy's hair. "You be good for Ichigo, alright."

"OK."

He stood and faced the orange-haired man, grateful beyond expression for what Ichigo was doing for him. He moved towards the doorway and nodded at his new boyfriend. He really wanted to kiss him and hug him. Who knew what might happen during the blaze? Grimmjow understood the risks that came with his job, and he was prepared to face them as well. But...there was a chance he might not see Ichigo again, and he really didn't want to leave without at least telling the man goodbye. And thank you. He hesitated, not sure what to do in front of his godson. However, Ichigo took the initiative and grasped his arm, leading him to the door. Grimmjow quickly slipped into his sneakers and followed Ichigo into the hallway.

As the door shut behind them, he wrapped his arms around the shorter man and buried his nose in that loud, orange hair. For a while, all they did was stand like that, but time was of the essence. He stepped out of the embrace, still holding onto Ichigo's waist.

"Thank you for doin' this. You don' have to-"

Ichigo cut him off with an urgent kiss. Grimmjow's brows creased as he immediately deepened the connection, his hands tightening their hold on Ichigo's shirt as he pulled him into his chest again. He didn't want to let go.

Ichigo was the one to pull away this time, his eyes bright. "Just, uh...be careful if you can, Grimm."

Grimmjow nodded and kissed him again. He felt bad for putting Ichigo in this predicament, but what else could he do? "I'll see you later," he said, voice quiet and serious.

"You better!" Ichigo called after him.

Grimmjow grinned over his shoulder and jogged towards the exit. He would make sure he made it back to Ichigo and his godson. He _had_ to.


End file.
